


One Last Roll of the Dice

by LuminousII



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Bad Albus Dumbledore, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Manipulative Harry Potter, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Not Canon Compliant, Smart Harry Potter, suspiciously helpful goblins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousII/pseuds/LuminousII
Summary: In some worlds, Harry dies before ever reaching Hogwarts.In some worlds, Harry goes to Hogwarts and dies to the many traps within and without.In some worlds, Harry goes to Hogwarts and dies to save the Wizarding World from itself, with no thanks from those he’s saved.In this world, Harry is, above all, a survivor.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Hermione Granger, Harry Potter & Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter & Theodore Nott, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 46
Kudos: 294





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will update the tags as they appear in story, which is why it looks so empty right now (unless you're reading this in the future then ignore this!)
> 
> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Multiple references to child abuse and neglect  
> A brief (one sentence) reference to suicidal thoughts of a child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will update the tags as they appear in story, which is why it looks so empty right now (unless you're reading this in the future then ignore this!)
> 
> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Multiple references to child abuse and neglect  
> A brief (one sentence) reference to suicidal thoughts of a child
> 
> Edited: 2/4/2021 for formatting fixes.

Hadrian Rose Potter was crying in his cupboard again. He was hungry, he was in a small and dark space, and he missed his parents. More than anything, he wanted to feel  _ safe. _ Safe with his mom and dad, with the one that had a barking laugh, and the one with the amber eyes. He just wanted to be their  _ little Rose  _ again.

Unfortunately, Hadrian was no longer with his family. No, these people were not family at all.

Petunia Dursley quickly bustled into his  _ room, _ turned on the lone overhead light, and slapped his face until he stopped crying and was looking at her.

“Would you just shut up, you  _ freak!” _ she hissed. With Hadrian stunned into silence from the burst of pain, Petunia nodded to herself and quickly returned to her room to sleep.

No, most definitely  _ not _ family.

Hadrian learned to not cry very quickly.

He was three when he learned, truly, that he was not welcome here. He also learned he was never going back to his parents.

Because his parents were dead.

Hadrian had a hard time not crying that night.

Hadrian was four years old when he was forced to start doing chores. It was small things, at first. Almost like Petunia was unsure of how much of the load he could bear, and cared enough to ensure she didn’t overburden him.

The truth of the matter is, of course, much more simple. Petunia was lazy and unimaginative, she merely didn’t think him capable of doing all the chores at this point in time.

This wouldn’t last.

Hadrian was also four years old the first time he was beaten. It, ironically enough, had nothing to do with magic, or not finishing chores on time. These would later be tacked on as excuses. No, the first beating was because Vernon didn’t get his promotion at work. Hadrian was blamed, as his  _ freakish _ bad luck was obviously the cause of such a moral and upstanding citizen not getting what he deserved.

This, of course, set a precedent for the rest of Hadrian’s childhood.

It was during this first beating that Hadrian felt something within him ice over and become numb.

He was beaten because it was easy and convenient, because he was  _ there. _

He wished he would have died with his parents.

Fortunately for Hadrian, and also for the Dursleys, no matter how much they despised it, Hadrian’s magic always healed him after these beatings. Hadrian healed much faster than what was  _ normal, _ usually healing from any injuries over night.

Hadrian didn’t consider himself lucky.

The Dursleys didn’t either.

Whatever free time Hadrian had he spent in his cupboard. It was a terribly small room, barely fit for a storage space, let alone living space for a toddler. Yet it was  _ his, _ in a way very things were now. Every possession he had left was also in this room, not that there were many things. A soft and frayed green blanket that he was wrapped in that night. A plush figure of a black dog. He guarded them, and the room, with the zealousness of a feral animal.

When he turned five, he started learning how to cook. Petunia figured that watching Hadrian attempt to cook, and then berating him for his failures counted as learning, at least. She also swung around a frying pan as extra incentive.

Hadrian quickly figured it out.

He also started school at this time, and quickly surpassed his peers. His teachers were astonished at how quickly he grasped his lessons. Hadrian himself was not. What else was he supposed to do while cleaning the floors of the entire house? Not to mention cooking meals everyday for his relatives. He used that time to practice, to  _ grow better. _

This astonishment faded quickly when Petunia spread rumors about his delinquency. Everyone immediately believed the worst of him. The children believed he was cheating off of them, and the adults thought he was a criminal in the making. This was, of course, not helped by Dudley running off anyone that was remotely friendly with him. He is the smartest kid in class, with no friends, and none of the adults like or trust him. Hadrian learns that people can be sorted into different categories. For him, this usually means enemies, acquaintances, allies, and family.

He is surrounded by enemies, with no family or allies.

Still, Hadrian brings home his report card of straight As. The teachers insist he is cheating, despite the fact that they all make him take his tests alone and watch him the entire time. Vernon’s face quickly turns several different colors, before finally settling on a dull purple. Afterwards, with the taste of blood in his mouth, something within him  _ breaks. _

He will not let these people ruin him. He will run if he has to, but he absolutely  _ refuses _ to be the downtrodden  _ wreck  _ they expect him to be.

No matter what,  _ he will survive. _

Hadrian is six the first time he tries to run away. He doesn’t make it very far, and is returned to his prison a little more than 24 hours later. The resulting beating is vicious, easily the worst he’s had up until this point.

His relatives decided to be more strict with him after his first escape attempt, and started decreasing the already pitiful amount of food he received. They also installed locks on his cupboard door to ensure that he couldn’t leave at night. Fortunately for Hadrian, his magic was able to unlock the door for him. Unfortunately, his relatives would almost certainly notice food going missing, so he started raiding the garbage. They would rather throw food away rather than feed him, and they didn’t believe in such a thing as leftovers.  _ Too unsanitary _ .

Hadrian also started raiding garbage along the way to and from school, as most other people seemed to throw away food as well. He would have worried about getting sick, but he couldn’t ever remember being sick before. He thought that, just like his healing abilities, this was just something else unique to him. Regardless, it was food that his family could not take from him, so he continued.

While his escape attempt failed, he soon realized he had no idea what to do after. Where would he go? Would anyone take him in, or would he have to live on the streets?  _ Could _ he even escape the house? The people that found him seemed to be searching for him in particular, and he honestly doubted the Dursley’s would report him missing. He needed more information.

Hadrian began devouring his school library in an attempt to further his plans. He noted every school book people older than him had, and studied those too if he could get his hands on them. Eventually, when he read through all these books, he moved onto the public library, though this was much less frequent. He often couldn’t find the time to visit, but he always checked out as many books as he could for lonely nights in his cupboard. Hadrian always hid them, knowing that if they were found, his family would burn them just to spite him.

This had an interesting side effect. Hadrian, already mature beyond his years due to the abuse and ridicule from everyone around him, matured even more. He quickly realized the importance of masks, as many new people were put off by a child being smarter than they were. He practiced on people that had no idea that he was  _ the delinquent, _ playing up his childlike naivety and innocence when he was anything but. People often saw what they wanted to see, and Hadrian ruthlessly used that to his advantage.

When Hadrian was seven he was assigned the garden as one of his new chores. Petunia meant this as a punishment, perhaps. Another grueling task to foist onto a child, then turn and laugh at his efforts when he inevitably failed, along with a beating. Petunia failed to consider several things.

The first of which, and most importantly to Hadrian’s continued survival in this house of horrors, was the water. He wasn’t continuously watched outside in the garden, and as such, was able to drink as much water as he wanted from the hose. Perhaps his relatives would have made fun of him for drinking from the hose like an uncivilized animal, but he didn’t particularly care at this point. He would survive.

The second reason, and most importantly to his continued  _ sanity, _ were the snakes. He could recall hearing voices while walking to school before, but wasn’t sure what to make of them at the time, beyond hoping he wasn’t going insane. Now, however, he knows that they were snakes. While not terribly fascinating conversationalists, he was able to talk to  _ someone _ that didn’t either ignore his existence or berate him at every opportunity. It did wonders for his loneliness.

Hadrian also liked the flowers, particularly the roses. He did share a name with them, after all. The garden in general helped soothe the ice in his soul, by helping him realize he wasn’t an entirely bitter and twisted creature. He could still care for something, help something grow and  _ live. _ Despite Petunia’s many,  _ many _ faults, Hadrian fiercely loved his mother and the flower naming scheme that seemed to run in the family. It was a tradition, a reminder that he had a true family, once upon a time.

At the end of the summer, Petunia’s garden was entered into the neighborhood competition and won. Petunia, of course, claimed all the credit. Her neighbors came to congratulate her, despite many of them clearly seeing Hadrian work in that garden nonstop over the summer nearly every day. Hadrian didn’t care about them, or Petunia, or even the award really. Sure, the award was nice, in the sense that he worked for something and that it was recognized as good compared to others. What he was really happy about was that the garden was  _ his. _ Petunia would never work in it again, he knew, and would likely ensure that he worked on it for as much time as possible in the future. Not only did this mean more water and alone time with snakes, but it meant something else in this terrible place was strictly his.

Hadrian almost thought he could be happy.

When he was eight, and the next summer rolled around, Petunia tried to tell him what to do with the garden. Hadrian pretended to listen, then promptly ignored her plan. Her plan for the garden would look  _ dreadful. _ Instead, he planted what he wanted and listened to the snakes and learned from their lessons. Things like hiding in plain sight, striking fast and  _ lethally, _ but also how to wait and be patient. Thanks to the snakes, Hadrian developed masterful control over his facial tells and some of his bodily reactions to things.

Petunia’s garden won once again, this time with more praise than last year. Everyone fawned over the garden and it’s variety of colors and flowers. Petunia had a very pinched look on her face as she accepted all the praise, and glared at him when she thought nobody was looking. He kept his face blank as ever, and despite knowing that he would be punished for this later, found everything rather amusing.

The distinct lack of petunias and the overabundance of lilies and roses made him viciously satisfied.

When Hadrian was nine, he started trying to practice small things. He was hesitant to call it magic, but how else would one describe conjuring a ball of light? He was not a freak, and ruthlessly crushed the small voice in his head that insisted he was. Doing these tricks, this  _ magic, _ often left him tired, but such a thing didn’t have many drawbacks. Truthfully, most days he didn’t finish all the chores anyway, as his relatives deliberately gave him too many. So he continued to do small bits of magic here and there, figuring it was like a muscle. Repeated practice should only allow it to grow, provided he didn’t over do it and strain it or something.

When Hadrian was ten, he started planning another escape. After cleaning the entire house for years, he managed to spirit away some money, either stealing it directly from Petunia’s or Vernon’s wallets, or happening upon some forgotten amount in the couch. His rather broad education had continued uninterrupted, and despite still being held back with those of his age, was far advanced of where they were. If he could successfully leave, he might be able to pass himself off as an abused genius of some kind (which he was). He would prefer to never see this place again in his life. Before he could run away once more, Hadrian’s eleventh birthday finally arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if my grammar offends you! I have taken one (1) English class since graduating high school and the English classes for my school district were rather poor. I don't reeeally know how to write dialogue or where to put commas lol.
> 
> Edited: 2/4/2021 for small continuity error and formatting fixes.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter:  
> More references to child abuse  
> Instances of physical abuse

Hadrian woke up with a start, quietly gasping for air as his lungs constricted. He desperately tried to hold in his screams, while at the same time trying to breathe. Tears started forming in his eyes before he forced everything under _ice._ He would **not** allow himself to show weakness, not in this place. Even if they couldn’t see him right now, he was surrounded by enemies.

This house holds too many bad memories. Too much blood, too much pain, too much _misery._ It seeps into every aspect of his life, and if he never saw this place again in his entire life, it would still be too soon.

Hadrian settled into a meditative state to relax and decompress after his horrible dream, thanking every deity he could think of that he had found information on meditation and relaxation techniques. He was quite sure he would have snapped years ago otherwise. Eventually, Petunia stomps down the stairs, grumbling loud enough that he can hear her even through the door. He wonders if Vernon or Dudley will hear her and blame him for making so much racket. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Boy!” she shrieks in her high pitched voice. “Get out here and make my precious Dudders his breakfast!” Hadrian quickly exits his cupboard in an attempt to avoid being beaten for breakfast being late. Dudley rushes down the stairs until he reaches the stairs over his cupboard, not noticing Hadrian has already left. He then stomps and jumps over the steps, no doubt causing dust to rain down over where he normally sleeps and rattling what few objects he has in there. Dudley then almost vaults down the rest of the stairs before finally realizing that Hadrian is standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Knowing that Dudley will tell Petunia something regardless of whatever Hadrian does, since he saw Dudley acting like a moron, Hadrian raises an eyebrow to mock him before turning to enter the kitchen and prepare breakfast.

As expected, Dudley bursts into the kitchen and loudly proclaims, “Mum! The freak is making fun of me again!” Petunia promptly gives him a vicious glare and whacks the side of his head with her hand in punishment. Hadrian quickly bites his tongue to avoid making the situation worse and continues to make breakfast for the family. Satisfied that he has gotten what he deserved, Dudley makes his way towards the table and sits down, fiddling with the tablecloth as he waits. Dudley has never been a patient person, however, and swiftly starts complaining, _loudly._ Petunia, whether in actual malicious curiosity or merely wanting her irritating son to _be silent,_ asks why Hadrian hasn’t finished breakfast yet, or why Hadrian hasn’t set the table, or why Hadrian hasn’t poured Dudley’s favorite apple juice.

Hadrian, still off-balance from his nightmare earlier and even less than usual hours of sleep, almost does something drastically unwise, like telling his aunt that maybe their live-in servant would rather jump off a cliff than be around them for a moment longer. Before he can even look in her direction, however, Vernon enters the kitchen. Petunia stops her less than subtle questioning immediately, and Dudley, _unfortunately,_ does not stop his loud complaining. This is, of course, because Dudley can do no wrong where his father is concerned, and despite his disturbing and alarming propensity for physical violence towards children when angered, Vernon has never actually hit Dudley. At least, not that Hadrian was aware of, and he believed he would have been made _quite_ aware of it should it ever have occurred.

Petunia, on the other hand, is well aware of her husband’s violent tendencies, and while he has never hit her _either,_ she is clearly uncomfortable with his quick temper. Usually, she tries to minimize herself as a target by either pointing out all of the _freak’s_ faults, or otherwise just not calling attention to herself in a meaningful way. Hadrian could almost admire her self preservation were it not at the expense of a child, specifically him.

Regardless, with Vernon’s entrance into the kitchen, Hadrian finishes preparing breakfast and swiftly sets the table so his relatives can eat. He’s long stopped expecting food to be given to him, so when Vernon offers him food only to take it away when he so much as looks in its direction, it almost makes him laugh. That trick had gotten old by the time he was six. With breakfast served and the freak having no more use in the kitchen until all the food was eaten, Vernon banishes him to his other chores. 

Hadrian, internally rolling his eyes, utters a clear and bland, “Yes, Uncle Vernon,” and walks away to retrieve the mail. Making his way through the hallway to reach the front door, Hadrian can already see the stack of letters on the floor. Quickly sorting through the letters to see if he could use anything, he freezes when he finds his own name on a letter. As far as Hadrian is aware, he has never received a letter in his life, and he’s been checking the mail for the Dursleys since he was five. Upon examining the letter in more detail, his eyes narrow slightly, before returning to his blank mask. There, upon crisp white parchment, was the address _Cupboard Under the Stairs._

“Whoever sent this,” Hadrian thinks rather viciously, “is either playing a terrible prank or is aware of the travesty that is my living situation.” Despite his curiosity in regards to the letter, he knows better than to let anyone in this house see it. Sighing to himself, Hadrian makes his way back towards the kitchen, and drops the incriminating letter into the slots on his cupboard door.

Upon dropping the rest of the mail off with Vernon at the table, he receives another smack to the side of his head for taking too long. Hadrian smothers the familiar feeling of rage and resentment at his terrible treatment, and quickly vacates the kitchen before some other contrived reason for beating him pops into his relatives’ heads. His chores for the day are rather minimal, all things considered, as he only has to tend to the garden, clean the floors, prepare lunch and dinner, and do the dishes after said meals. He might even finish on time today.

He doesn’t.

Stumbling into his cupboard after serving as his uncle’s punching bag for the day, he remembers the letter after laying down on his small cot. Groaning near silently as he stands once again, he reaches for the letter and rips it open, again wondering who could possibly be sending him something and _why._ Both questions are quickly answered when two pieces of paper pop out and boldly declare Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry across the top. Hadrian _stills_ in that moment, and feels a rush of unidentifiable emotions course through him, before he ruthlessly crushes them and continues reading.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

  1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
  2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
  3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
  4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)



Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_

_by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic_

_by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory_

_by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_

_by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

_by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions_

_by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

_by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

_by Quentin Trimble_

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

_Hogwarts._ A magical school. Assuming this letter is telling the truth, and he sincerely doubts this is a prank, then that means he does, in fact, have magic. Or rather, his abilities, as he had tended to call them, are magic. Seeing as how nobody ever talks about this, Hadrian assumes the magical school is hidden, along with many, if not all aspects of their society. He thinks he would have heard of it by now if not. While the magical world will undoubtedly be better than the Dursley residence, as _anywhere else_ would be, his entering of the magical world poses its own set of problems. Namely, his lack of knowledge about quite possibly everything in the magical world. He wonders if magic was genetic? He remembered his parents performing magic, and he had it... but then, Petunia doesn’t have any, and she’s his aunt so maybe...

Hadrian huffs, mildly irritated. “I despise not having all the information.” He looks towards the letter again. “Regardless, it says I must respond by July 31st, so I suppose I should write back my acceptance?”

Grabbing a blue pen stolen from Dudley, not that Dudley ever actually used it, he starts to write his response before more questions occur to him. “The second piece of parchment has a supply list, where am I supposed to pick all of this up? And with what money? For that matter, how much does this school cost, and can I afford it?” Trying to quell his rising panic, he quickly writes out a response letter:

Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall

I will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, however I have a few questions. Namely, how can I afford to go to Hogwarts? My current guardians are unlikely to pay for it, and I have no money that I’m aware of. This also means I cannot purchase the supplies listed. Is there some sort of aid I can apply for? Additionally, I have no way of knowing where to purchase all of these supplies, so if someone could come and explain these things to me, I would love to attend Hogwarts.

Sincerely,

Hadrian Rose Potter

Hadrian grimaces slightly at asking for any help. He’s aware he cannot always manage everything on his own, but asking for help has never sat rightly with him. It feels like an uneven trade, and he despises owning anybody anything. With his letter finished, he quickly exits the cupboard and sneaks out the front door. He makes his way towards the mailbox, before an owl flies in front of him and perches on top of it. He stops for a moment, utterly bewildered, before realizing that the magical world would almost certainly not be using normal post services. Cursing his brief stupidity, he approaches the owl warily. Most animals tend to like him, but that’s not an excuse to approach any animal and just expect them to be friendly. Not to mention, this owl seems somewhat intelligent, as they were aware of who they delivered a letter for and was waiting for his response.

“Hello, owl,” Hadrian starts, hoping nobody can see him talking to the _owl on the mailbox._ He’d be beaten for sure if that’s the case for being more freakish than normal. “Were you waiting for this?” He holds the letter out to the creature, and blinks in surprise when the owl gently takes it from his fingers, stares at him for a moment, and flies away. “Well,” he thinks, amused despite the situation, “that was interesting.” With his business finished, he returns to the cupboard to rest and think over what just occurred.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat in his office, going through paperwork. A dreadfully dull task, but one that must be completed, given all his stations and status. Every so often, he would pop a lemon candy into his mouth and sit back, thinking. His thoughts often turn to the boy, Harry Potter. In a few short weeks, he would be attending Hogwarts, signalling the beginning of his many plans.

Small tapping sounds broke Albus free from his reverie, and he turned towards the window, seeing a Hogwarts owl. Frowning to himself briefly, he got up and opened the window to let the owl inside. Wondering why he would be receiving a letter from a Hogwarts owl, he opened the letter only to blink in shock. It was from Harry Potter himself! He definitely didn’t expect the brat to respond, though that did explain why it came to him. Despite being addressed to Minerva, his mail redirect ward brought it right to him, since he hadn’t had time to change it yet after sending the letter this morning. A nice reminder to change that, since young Harry would likely be sending mail to others soon. 

Reading through the contents of the letter, his eyebrows rose slightly and he started stroking his bear. He sat back down in his grandiose chair, and started thinking aloud. “Harry seems both intelligent and eloquent, not what I expected after leaving him in that house. He has the presence of mind to ask questions, which isn’t good at all. He also clearly doesn’t understand his place in our world, which is excellent, and exactly what I intended. The money is obviously taken care of, but he doesn’t know that yet… who to send to tell him exactly what he needs to know?” With his eyes twinkling madly, Albus quickly decided on Hagrid. Albus knew that Hagrid would believe whatever he said and tell the boy exactly what he needed to drive him towards being a perfect light wizard and away from the dark. Not to mention Hagrid could help run other tasks or interference if necessary. With his plans for the boy in place, Albus went back to his paperwork, oblivious all the while to the looks the previous Headmasters’ portraits were giving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as this chapter indicates, we will be having basically evil Dumbledore and Dumbledore bashing. I apologize if this isn't your cup of tea, but I truly don't see him as a good character anymore.  
> Other things you can expect of this fic that may turn you off:  
> Compulsions/potions plotline for several characters  
> I truly am not sure yet if the other bashing "candidates" will be bashed (Ginny, Ron, Hermione, etc.), but there will be at least slight Molly bashing. This Harry will def not react the same as canon Harry to Ron and Hermione obviously, but they can always grow out of whatever insecurities they may possess.  
> Political stuff in children (though in my outline I don't have it kick off majorly until like 5th year)


	3. Chapter 3

Hadrian woke in the darkness of his cupboard, without a nightmare this time, thankfully. He wondered how soon he could expect a response to his questions, before moving to do his daily morning ritual of meditation and relaxation. Like clockwork, Petunia came banging on his cupboard door and told him to make breakfast. Rolling his eyes, he followed her into the kitchen, avoiding Dudley entirely as it was a weekend, which meant he slept in. While making breakfast, his thoughts turned to the letters once again, and hoped they would respond soon. This could change all of his plans. He didn’t care what it took, he would escape the Dursleys and never come back.

He needed to be careful though. Someone had obviously left him here, as Petunia often told him he was dumped on their doorstep with the morning milk in an effort to make him feel unwanted. Perhaps they were unaware that the people here would not be good caretakers for him? Hadrian was deeply suspicious of the whole thing. Why would you leave a baby on a doorstep in the middle of the night? Especially in the chilly November weather. While he hasn’t seen it himself, he has overheard Petunia mention a note that was with him that night as well. Is that why they took him in? The letter asked them to do so? They clearly wanted nothing to do with him from the very beginning, so whoever the letter was written by was likely powerful enough to force the hands of the Dursley’s. Not that it would be particularly difficult with magic, as both Petunia and Vernon seemed to fear and hate magic in equal measures.

His musings must have lasted longer than he thought, for when he started paying attention again, Vernon was already seated at the table. A minor miracle his lapse in attention wasn’t obvious to them, as he would have been beaten for it. Thankfully, cooking their meals was so ingrained at this point that he could probably cook them in his sleep. Just as he finished setting the table, someone knocked on the front door. Vernon and Petunia both paused and looked at him suspiciously.

“Well, boy? Go answer the door!” His uncle practically roared. Hadrian carefully buried his feelings of dread and anticipation beneath ice, and headed to open the door. Upon opening the door, however, he was immediately wary. This man was huge. Hadrian had not had very good experiences with huge men thus far in this life, so he briefly paused as he considered what to say. Before he could even utter a word, the large man boomed out, “Well hello there Harry! My, you grew quite a lot since I saw you last! Very good to see you again, very good!”

Hadrian could practically  _ feel _ his metaphorical hackles rise after that statement. Since he could not remember meeting this man before, it must have occurred either when he was asleep, or during the time he could not remember as a baby. Both options were rather alarming. Still, it wouldn’t do to alienate this large man, as he was likely his guide to the magical world for the day if he already knew who Hadrian was. Remembering his manners, Hadrian politely pretended confusion.

“Hello, sir. Who are you and why are you here?” Hagrid practically beamed at him as he responded.

“So polite too! Lily and James would be so proud! My name is Hagrid, and I’m the Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts. I’ve come to take you to Diagon Alley!” Before Hadrian could even begin to formulate a response to  _ that _ , his uncle called from deeper in the house.

“ _ Boy! _ Who’s at the door!?” Clenching his jaw slightly, Hadrian turned back to smile at Hagrid, still standing in the doorway, who’s smile hadn’t faded. Hadrian wondered if he saw nothing wrong with this picture, or just didn’t care. Perhaps he was an enemy after all.

“Do come in Mr. Hagrid, we should probably talk with my uncle and aunt.”

Hagrid, seemingly oblivious to any tension whatsoever, replied with, “Of course! I’d love to chat with your family.” Hadrian almost snorted at the assumption these people were his family, and gleefully looked forward to the ensuing chaos that Hagrid and all he implied would bring. Hadrian barely concealed a smirk at the look of horror Vernon and Petunia sported as Hagrid was forced to duck to enter the kitchen.

He instead calmly stated, “This is Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts and wanted to have a quick  _ chat _ .” Placing special emphasis on chat, he almost cackled when their looks of fear grew. Hagrid, who was even taller and larger than Vernon, seemed to miss their fear of him entirely. Even better, the man’s so far boisterous nature would be sure to throw them off guard immediately. He needed every advantage he could get in this conversation, and if he had to manipulate Hagrid and his relatives both to get out of this alive, unharmed, and on the path to Hogwarts, he would.

Before Vernon or Petunia could say anything, as they were still too busy quaking in fear, Hagrid said, “Why hello! Little Harry here didn’t mention your names. I’m here to take him shopping for his supplies for Hogwarts.” Vernon and Petunia both spluttered for a moment, and despite the odd situation they found themselves in, introduced themselves. They seemed entirely bewildered, before obviously catching on to the end of Hagrid’s previous statement.

Vernon, quickly regaining his bluster, replied, “Now see here, we have raised the boy for the past ten years, and he will  _ not _ be going to that ridiculous school!” Hagrid seemed confused by this statement, and his voice reflected that.

“What do you mean he’s not going? He’s a wizard, of course he’s going!” Hadrian witnessed both Petunia’s and Vernon’s minute flinches, and mentally raised an eyebrow.

“So they knew,” Hadrian mused to himself. “I suspected as much, but it’s nice to confirm it. Why the fear of magic to such a degree?”

Vernon continued his ill-advised argument with the other man, stating, “I will not allow it! That boy will not be going to this silly school to learn magic tricks from some two bit old fool!” Hagrid’s face darkened at an alarming rate, and Hadrian warily noted to himself that Hagrid seemed to have a rather fearsome temper as well. He would have to watch himself today.

“Listen here Vernon. Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard who ever lived, and Harry will be going to Hogwarts, with or without your permission!”

“That sounds a lot like kidnapping,” Hadrian idly thought. “Not that I truly mind, of course.” Petunia and Vernon were frozen, perhaps also sensing the temper the bigger man possessed. Sensing an opportunity for information, Hadrian asked, “Did my parents attend Hogwarts too, Mr. Hagrid? Is that why I can go?” 

Hagrid’s jaw fell open in shock, responding with, “Harry, you don’t know about your parents? What they’ve done, who they were?” Hadrian shook his head, projecting the perfect image of an embarrassed orphan child who is eager for more information about his parents, while Petunia and Vernon looked on in horror and dawning comprehension.

“Uncle Vernon said they died in a car crash and it was my fault.” Hadrian watched in carefully concealed glee as Vernon’s eyes widened, while Hagrid had to take several calming breaths, probably to avoid strangling the Dursleys.

“Lily and James Potter died from a car crash? Your fault!? Absolute rubbish! They were the kindest people I’ve ever known, and helped save us all!” Hagrid practically shouted out, completely incensed. Hadrian was impressed with the man’s volume, despite his slight fear in the presence of a large man who was angry. Hagrid then turned toward Petunia and said, “Lily was your own sister, how could you treat her son, your nephew, in this way? It don’t make sense!” Like the words unlocked something in his brain, Hadrian finally made the connection he had spent years thinking about. Contrary to what Hagrid though, it  _ did _ make sense, at least for someone like Petunia.

“So, that’s the reason why,” he stated coldly. Hagrid was still ranting and raving, with Vernon trying to defend himself and his wife, so they weren't listening, but Petunia most definitely was. She eyed him warily, like he was about to lunge across the table to scratch at her face. He briefly considered the idea before dismissing it. He still needed Hagrid on his side for today, and such a display would do him no favors. Hagrid may be angry at them now, but he would likely not approve of such measures, or possibly even revenge in general. Hadrian, obviously, disagreed with that mentality.

“You were jealous. This entire time you’ve just been jealous of what I, and my mother, possessed while you didn’t,” Hadrian said sharply. Each word hit their mark like a knife. Petunia’s face drained of all color, and she tried to open her mouth to say something. Whether that be excuses or recriminations, he didn’t know or care. He continued ruthlessly, “I used to think you just hated me because you were awful people. I’m honestly not sure which one is worse, that you abused your nephew because you were jealous of both his and your sister’s magic, or you abused him because you could. You willfully and gleefully abused _an orphaned_ _child_ because you allowed your petty jealousy over a difference in birth to fester into hatred. How pathetic.” 

Unnoticed by Hadrian, but definitely by Petunia, the air around her started to cool during his speech. By the end, she was visibly shivering, though it was unclear whether in fear or due to the cold. Hadrian turned towards Hagrid and interrupted his still ongoing rant at Vernon. “Can we leave now Mr. Hagrid?”

“Of course, Harry, of course,” Hagrid replied, a little disgruntled. He ducked out of the kitchen and moved towards the front door. 

Hadrian made to follow before being stopped by his Aunt’s vicious hiss, “If you leave now, you will never be welcome in our home again!” It seemed she had recovered herself, then. Slowly turning in the doorway, Hadrian allowed his eyes and voice to convey the full depth of his hatred towards these people for the very first time. 

“This is not, nor has it ever been, my home. You made sure of that before I was here for even a week. I have hated every single moment spent in this house, and will be glad to never see it, or you, ever again.” Hadrian turned back towards the front door, walked out of the house that had been his prison for the past 10 years, and submerged his rage and bitterness under layers of  _ ice _ . 

He was finally free.

Hagrid was waiting for him outside the house, looking a little fretful. “Probably shouldn’t have done that…” Hagrid almost muttered to himself. Hadrian sighed quietly, contemplating what to do next. After the confirmation of his Hogwarts acceptance, he knew he could never go back to that house. They would surely kill him if he did, since they now had definitive proof of his magic instead of guessing he did. He wished he had a bit more time to decompress, but he needed Hagrid to be on his side for at least the rest of the day. He needed a few questions answered, and Hagrid likely would give him honest answers after that little display. Hagrid would want to be seen as trustworthy after that, since Hadrian was _ supposed _ to be a shell shocked but still innocent child.

With his mind reaffirmed on the task at hand, he approached Hagrid with a polite, “Where to next, Mr. Hagrid?” Hagrid seemed almost startled at his approach and voice, before turning towards Hadrian again, beaming a full smile at him.

“We’re off to Diagon Alley Harry! You can get all your school stuff there. And just call me Hagrid, none of this ‘Mr. Hagrid’ business!” Hagrid said with cheer.

“Oh,” Hadrian said, trying to fish for more information. “How will we get there? And how will I pay for all this? And please, call me Hadrian, it’s the name I go by.” Hadrian wasn’t sure why Hagrid was calling him Harry in the first place, to be honest.

Hagrid made a hmph sound as they started walking. “Sounds like those muggles didn’t tell you very much then? We’ll be walking to a place called the Leaky Cauldron to get to Diagon Alley. Hogwarts was paid for the moment you were born, and your parents left you some money in Gringotts as well. I reckon you can get through all of your Hogwarts schooling with it if you’re careful!” Hadrian filed all of this new information carefully, ignoring, for the moment, all the new questions that came with it. His most pressing concern at this point was trying to figure out the timeline of what happened that Halloween night, and who left him with the Dursleys, and Hagrid seemed to at least know his parents. 

“Hagrid?” Harry began, tentatively. “Can you tell me what happened to my parents?” Hadrian really hoped the display from earlier would help Hagrid be more willing to share the truth. He wanted to know more than the horrifying display that repeated in his nightmares nearly every single night.

More than the “Take Hadrian and run!” which was followed by silence. More than the repeated begging and screaming of “Not my baby! Please, not my Hadrian!” which was followed by more silence. More than the terrible sounding laugh and green light and  _ pain _ . He wanted to know  _ why _ .

Hagrid’s walking slowed slightly, before picking up again. When he spoke, he sounded hesitant. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?” Hadrian nodded, doing his level best to project the image of a determined, yet innocent and naive, child.

“Well if you’re sure…” Hagrid began. “An evil and very dark wizard, named Vo-” he cut himself off and looked around. He continued in a slightly worried tone, “Hadrian, never say his name aloud. I’ll say it just the once, so you know it, but promise me you won’t say it too.” At Hadrian’s confirming nod, Hagrid continued, “V-voldemort, he came after you and your parents that night, Hadrian. Nobody quite knows for sure why, but many think he was just insane. On that night, he killed your parents and tried to kill you, but you somehow survived. It’s where your scar came from. Magic that dark leaves traces, you know. Nobody has seen or heard from him since, and many believe him to be dead. I don’t believe that though. He was as dark as they came; no way he’s not dead,” Hagrid ended his speech on that somber note. Hadrian didn’t immediately reply, too busy thinking.

“Well,” Hadrian thought. “That was far worse than I imagined it would be. So much of that seemed to be opinions or thoughts, not facts. Not to mention the obvious bias against dark magic, whatever that was, the fear surrounding the evil wizard’s name, the-” Hadrian’s thoughts ground to an abrupt halt as something occurred to him. “Hagrid?” he began carefully, hoping,  _ praying _ he was wrong. “When you say nobody knows what happened, do you mean that everybody knows about this?”

Hagrid looked at him in shock, before loudly stating, “Of course, Hadrian, you’re famous! People look up to you for saving them! You’re Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived!” Hadrian almost screamed in frustration. This just made everything so much more  _ complicated _ . He didn’t want to be a bloody symbol or a celebrity! And how did these people get his name wrong?! Though he supposed he could use his fame for something...  


The most troublesome thing is that Hagrid had identified him based on appearance, though he perhaps just assumed the Dursleys didn’t have another child in their house. Hagrid also mentioned his scar, while Hadrian had never shown or mentioned it. This meant that either the scar was common knowledge, likely spread by whoever dumped him at the Dursleys, or Hagrid was told about it. Hadrian was betting on the former, because that would be just his terrible luck.

His internal musings were interrupted by Hagrid announcing they had arrived at their destination. The Leaky Cauldron didn’t look that impressive from the outside, and he spared a pitying thought for anyone entering the magical world for the first time. Sure, it doubled as an inn, but the entrance being in a pub was likely sending all the wrong messages. Hagrid entered the pub and Hadrian followed after him, a sense of dread building.

The interior was dimly lit, most of the light provided by a single window very high up on the wall. It was also much larger than expected, with more space horizontally than should be possible based on what Hadrian had seen from the outside. Tables and chairs of different shapes, sizes, and colors were strewn in a haphazard fashion all along three of the walls, with several larger tables in the middle of the room. The last wall held the bar, with several people sitting there and chatting with the barman.

Almost immediately after entering, the barman looked over at Hagrid and smiled, before shouting out, “Hagrid! Here for your usual?”

Hagrid responded in his normal upbeat and  _ loud _ tone, “No Tom! I’m just passing through. Hogwarts business, you see. Have to get Hadrian here his school stuff.” Hadrian saw Tom’s eyes lock onto him and widen in shock. Hadrian stiffened, and seeing that he was about to open his mouth, tried to subtly shake his head.

His attempts were in vain, however, as Tom stated, also quite  _ loudly _ , “Harry Potter, is it!? An honor to meet you at last, truly an honor!”

Hadrian viciously cursed every god he’s ever read about in his head as every set of eyes in the entire establishment swung in his direction. He turned his head downwards to stare at the floor, hoping nobody had seen the absolute murder in his eyes before he averted them. That would probably ruin his image right away.

“What a shame that would be,” Hadrian thought sardonically, as almost everyone crowded him and welcomed him back to the magical world, or told him it was an honor, or how  _ cute _ he was. His left eye had started twitching violently when he heard the last one, and firmly told himself that physically attacking someone upon his reemergence into the magical world was a terrible idea. Probably.

Finally, the crowd from hell dispersed, and he was left with Hagrid and one other man. The man hadn’t said anything yet, merely stared at him with an unreadable expression from the edges of the crowd. Hadrian had noticed, merely because everyone else had such rapturous and awe filled expressions on their faces. All except this man. The man was wearing purple robes and had pale skin and brown eyes. Most interestingly, the man was wearing a purple turban, which seemed odd, but what did Hadrian know? Perhaps some wizards practiced different religions? When he approached at last, Hadrian frowned slightly. His instincts were practically screaming danger at him, but the man looked so unassuming. Hadrian had learned to trust his instincts, however, so he became even more defensive, and plastered a very large and very  _ fake _ smile on his face.

“W-why h-h-hello, Mr. P-potter,” the man said. 

Hadrian warily made to introduce himself, before Hagrid cut him off and said, “Good morning Professor!” Turning to Hadrian, he then added, “This here is Professor Quirrell. He’s the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year.” Interestingly, Quirrell’s face cycled through several different emotions, including irritation, before setting on a bland smile. Hadrian thought it looked as fake as his own.

Trying to be polite, even though he wanted to be nowhere near this man, Hadrian stuck out his hand and said, “Nice to meet you.” Quirrell looked at the appendage as if it wanted to eat him, before lifting his eyes back up to meet Hadrian’s. Hadrian grew even more on guard, if at all possible, as he saw not only fear, but also disgust in the man’s eyes. Quirrell made some banal comment about his chosen subject before swirling away into the crowd.

Thoroughly unsettled, Hadrian followed Hagrid toward the back of the pub, and entered what seemed like a storage room with brick walls. Hagrid made some small talk before taking an umbrella from his overly large coat and tapped on some bricks. Hadrian cynically noted that the bricks he tapped were at a height far too tall for a child to access without assistance. His cynicism then morphed to awe as the bricks spun away from where Hagrid tapped, and revealed an entranceway to what looked like a busy and colorful side street with lots of stores.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley, Harry!” Hagrid enthused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you scheming, manipulative, feral child.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shopping chapter! As well as some hints for what is to come shortly.
> 
> No warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Edited: 2/4/2021 to delete an added word.

Walking into Diagon Alley for the first time was… _enchanting_. Hadrian could practically feel the magic in the air, and he wondered if that was normal or if it was just because he hadn’t been exposed to much magic since early childhood. The alley had a storefront every few meters, with a white marble building at the very end. Many of the stores he could see had odd shapes. It almost looked like some of the buildings were leaning forward or backward. There were many people wandering about, all wearing odd clothes. Perhaps this was normal wizarding fashion? As they walked down the alley, they passed many distinct shops, like Flourish and Botts, Eeylops Owl Emporium, and Ollivanders. 

As they neared the marble building, Hagrid near whispered, “Hadrian, we’re about to enter Gringotts, the wizarding bank. It’s run by the goblins, who have quite the reputation of being shrewd and terse with their clients. _Never_ , under any circumstances, should you cross them.” Hadrian narrowed his eyes in consideration, before nodding in response. Being polite with the people who managed his money, no matter how they looked or apparently acted, seemed like a wise choice.

“The polite and well-mannered child mask, then,” Hadrian thought wryly.

As they walked up the steps, two goblins stood guard to the side of a grand entrance, and the doors themselves were engraved with the words:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

“A warning against thievery,” Hadrian thought. “It seems you would have to be a very special kind of fool to steal from the goblins.” While waiting for the large doors to open, Hadrian nodded respectfully to the goblins standing guard, and faced forward, hoping Hagrid wouldn’t make a mess of things, since Hadrian himself didn’t really know anything about the situation. He noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that both of the goblins turned towards him slightly, before facing forward once more. That reaction seemed to speak of them often being ignored or belittled, which just seemed unwise. Why would you antagonize the people that controlled your money?

The entrance hall for Gringotts left Hadrian very impressed. This was much more grand than the Leaky Cauldron. The space was well lit, both by natural light and what looked like chandeliers. Portraits and sculptures lined the walls, likely of different points in history, which lent a more sophisticated air to the place. The floors were what captured Hadrian’s attention the most, though. The floor was filled almost entirely with concentric circles surrounding some stars, the sun, and the moon. He wondered if it had some special significance. 

There were two lines of desks, with a bit of space in between each desk. Many goblins were sitting at these desks, likely to help different clients. It looked like there was about 30 in all, with a much larger desk at the end of the hall.

“The goblin in that particular desk must be more important,” Hadrian thought. “I wonder what determines status among them?” As they walked down the hall, Hadrian wondered if he was imagining things. Every single goblin followed their progress down the hall. They were very subtle, but Hadrian had spent years analyzing people and all their microexpressions and head movements. He grew distinctly uncomfortable with the attention, and then he realized where they were heading.

“I hope Hagrid knows what he’s doing…” Hadrian thought with no small amount of dread, as they neared the very important looking desk and goblin sitting in it. This goblin was the only one who had not looked up at their progress down the hall, and was swiftly writing in a large book. Hagrid walked right up to the desk and cleared his throat to get the goblin’s attention. The goblin slowly looked up with a sneer and stopped writing. Despite the ambient noises continuing, Hadrian could tell that the goblins closest to them were listening in.

“A Mr. Potter here to make a withdrawal,” Hagrid stated solemnly. At this, the goblin’s sneer grew, and he leaned over the counter to look at Hadrian.

“Does this Mr. Potter have his vault key?” the goblin drawled in a rocky voice. Hadrian had a moment to panic, because he knew nothing about a key, before Hagrid interrupted.

“I’ve got it! It’s in here somewhere,” Hagrid said, as he started digging through his extremely large coat that apparently had just as many pockets. Hadrian narrowed his eyes and watched with a slightly irritated expression as Hagrid withdrew many things from his pockets, all of which _were not his key_ . The goblin did the same. This goblin _also_ looked at him appraisingly, and Hadrian met his gaze without flinching. The goblin sneered once again, but his eyes looked thoughtful.

Hagrid finally pulls out the vault key with an, “Ah! Here it is.” He then also pulls out an envelope and hands it to the goblin as well. “This here is from Headmaster Dumbledore. It’s about you know what in you know which vault.”

The goblin’s sneer grew much more pronounced upon hearing the name Dumbledore, before begrudgingly taking the envelope and looking it over.

“Very well,” The goblin stated, seeming to hate having anything to do regarding Dumbledore. “Griphook! Take Mr. Potter and his guide down to the vaults!”

Another goblin, Griphook apparently, approached them and with a short, “Follow me,” they were on their way. They passed through a few short corridors, and went down a flight of stairs, and came to a large track with a cart on it. Hagrid already looked slightly ill, while Hadrian was just curious. Was this how they got around to different vaults? Everyone climbed in, and Griphook shouted out, “To vault 589.” The cart shot off like a bullet, following the winding track. Hadrian thought this was likely what a roller coaster felt like, though he had never ridden one before. It was both exhilarating and frightening.

They came to a stop in front of a round door that looked like it was carved into the wall. Griphook got out, and used the vault key to open the door. The sight that greeted Hadrian when the door was fully open took his breath away. There was a veritable _mountain_ of gold coins sitting stacked in the vault. He walked into the vault to grab some of the coins, before realizing he had no idea of their worth or how much he needed. Thankfully, Hagrid had stayed in the cart, so he could ask Griphook without interruption or eavesdropping. Goblins were the ones that _knew_ money, after all.

“Griphook, how much would you say I need for my shopping supplies? And what are the different types of coins I see here?” Hadrian asked as he saw the other coins, which were silver and bronze.

Griphook blinked, and said in an even tone, but still with a sneer, “Mr. Potter, the gold coins you see are called galleons, the silver coins are sickles, and the bronze are knuts. There are 17 sickles in a galleon, and 29 knuts in a sickle. As for your school supplies, it depends on the condition you want to buy them in, but you can always return for more money should you need it. I would recommend purchasing a pouch linked to this vault. This will allow you to withdraw any amount you wish, whenever you wish. Within reason, of course,” Griphook finished with a snarl.

“Thank you, Griphook. I will follow your advice, and take the pouch.” Hadrian had also caught the odd emphasis on the word return during that little speech. Seems the goblins wanted him for something then, if the display in the hall and the conversation just now was any indication. Griphook sneered at him in response, which Hadrian was starting to think was just about the only expression a goblin made, and it meant different things depending on the context. With his new money pouch stored in his pocket, they made their way back to the cart. Griphook had also handed him his key back once they were finished in his vault, with Hagrid not noticing due to his motion sickness from the cart ride.

“To vault 82,” Griphook said, and once again, the cart shot off at impressive speeds. Hagrid seemed to look even more ill, probably because they were moving through many more twists and turns as they descended below the bank. The older vaults seemed to be down here, and many looked very ornate. They finally stopped in front of a rather plain looking vault, especially compared to the ones around it. Griphook opened this one without a key, seeming to use magic to do so. When the door was fully opened, Hadrian contemplated the nearly empty vault. The only thing within it was a lone pedestal, upon which sat a small wrapped package. Hagrid quickly walked inside and picked up the small package, before placing it in his large coat.

“Probably shouldn’t mention this to your friends, Harry,” Hagrid told him. Hadrian raised an incredulous eyebrow. What friends?

They made their way back outside, once more passing through the entrance hall to do so. The goblins were still staring at him as he left, though being subtle about it. Thoroughly unnerved, and making a note to himself to always treat the goblins with respect, Hadrian walked back out into Diagon Alley. 

Hagrid stopped him before he could do anything else, and said, “Do you mind if I go to the Leaky for a drink? The carts don’t agree with me very much.” Hadrian smiled at him, both thankful and annoyed. He wouldn’t have this adult, who would likely report his every move to his superiors, following him as he shopped. Yet, he was willing to leave a child with no knowledge of the wizarding world on his own to go shopping? Hadrian might not need help, but another child in his situation probably would.

“That’s not a problem, Hagrid. I’ll be just fine,” Hadrian stated benignly. The goblins standing guard at the front of the bank looked almost amused, despite their blank masks. As Hagrid walked away, Hadrian smirked at them, before moving to start his shopping. Whatever the goblins want to talk to him about would have to wait until Hagrid leaves. He had already possessed Hadrian’s key, and since he very much doubted Hagrid had kept his key all these years, someone else must have given his vault key away. The goblins likely wanted to talk to him about whoever that person was having access to his account. Hagrid would almost certainly check on him again, however, meaning he couldn’t go to the bank unless strictly necessary. Not only did he not want Hagrid to know, but he also wasn’t sure how long such a thing would take.

Hadrian looked towards his supply list, truly considering it for the first time. He frowned as he looked at the uniform section. Only three sets of robes? And one of everything else? It was almost certainly easier to clean clothes in the magical world than the muggle one, but that still seemed like too few items. Though perhaps this was merely his vanity speaking after being smothered for years in Dudley’s cast offs. Shaking himself, Hadrian sighed. He should likely get a trunk first, to carry all his purchases in.

Oakwood Trunks for One and All was a rather interesting store. The outside looked much like a suitcase itself, with the “entrance” being the locking mechanism. The space inside was expanded as well, likely in reflection of actual wizarding trunks. There was a desk at the very front, with multiple long tables displaying different trunks, though Hadrian saw little differences in the ones closest to him. Perhaps the space inside them was different then? Or made of different materials?

Behind the desk stood a seemingly middle aged man with a balding head, a rather impressive mustache, and stern blue eyes.

“Can I help you lad?” the man said, looking him over. “You need a trunk for Hogwarts, then?”

Hadrian nodded cautiously. “Yes sir. I was looking for something with a lot of security features and space.” 

The man’s eyes sharpened slightly, and he led the way towards the back of the shop. “Heavy security hm? Sure, I can do that… would you prefer something with passwords, magical signature, or physical key? Or something else?”

Hadrian thought for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “Could I combine the magical signature and passwords? Make something like a decoy, where if only one is used it shows one part of the trunk, while using both shows something else?”

The man looked over Hadrian appraisingly. “An excellent idea lad, and easily doable. How many compartments are you thinking then? The standard stuff people usually go for are library, storage, potions lab, and wardrobe, with several add-ons, like a Quidditch storage for brooms and the like. You could even add something like a living space, though that obviously costs the most.”

Hadrian was a little startled at that, though it did make sense. If you could expand space inside something like a trunk to an adequate degree, you probably could live in it with no problems. Assuming that certain things, like plumbing, were taken care of, of course. This would also mean he has somewhere to stay for the foreseeable future.

“I think I’ll take you up on that living space, as well as an extended library, potions lab, two different compartments for storage, a wardrobe, and the decoy section,” Hadrian said. “Is there anything else I can add magically? Say, something that can prevent the trunk from gaining attention?”

The man thought for a moment. “Well, all our trunks come standard with anti-Muggle and featherlight charms, of course. Additionally, when someone is in the trunk, it cannot be shrunken and carried around, though you can close and lock it from the inside as well. Generally, the only thing people add to them are Notice-Me-Not charms if they use them in public spaces.”

“I’d like that please,” Hadrian said firmly.

“Very well young man, I’ll get that ready for you right away. Shouldn’t take me more than a few minutes to get the spells added and finalize everything,” the man said, disappearing into the back of the store.

While Hadrian was waiting, he looked through the rest of the trunks in the shop. Much of them were very basic, acting as typical trunks but with more space in them. Hadrian couldn’t quite think of a reason why you would go for more basic trunks if you had the money to afford better ones. Why wouldn’t you want bigger storage spaces? Not to mention that you could live in them, or have access to a potions lab if you were traveling. Even at school, you could do so many things with a trunk like the one he was getting.

The man emerged from the back of the shop, and carried his trunk over. “You can set up the passwords yourself, merely bring up the compartment you want and say your password before moving onto the next one. For example, to set it, something like ‘Potion’s Lab, Oakwood’ would do, and whenever you want the potions’s lab in the future, you would merely tap the trunk with your wand and say ‘Oakwood’,” the man said.

Hadrian figured that he wouldn’t likely need his wand to open his trunk in the future, since he was very much able to manipulate his magic wandlessly, as he had been doing it for years, but he wouldn’t tell this man that. Based on what he had seen so far, wandless magic was very much abnormal. Maybe that would change once he started casting actual spells? He would also make his passwords something in parsel, aside from the decoy trunk. He had realized, based on the snakes’ reactions, that speaking the serpent tongue was extremely rare. He didn’t really want to flaunt that ability quite yet, and making a decoy compartment with a simple password would also help if somebody needed to check the trunk for some reason.

“That will be 44 galleons and 12 sickles young man,” the man continued. Wincing slightly at the price, but knowing this would be necessary, Hadrian handed over the payment. Thanking the man for his time and product, Hadrian left the store and carried his now shrunken trunk to the next stop: Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. 

This store was rather strange as well. There were various models scattered throughout the store, each showcasing a particular style of outfit. Some wore robes with minor alterations, like whether the front was open or not. Some wore entirely muggle outfits, which highlighted this shop as serving muggleborns as well. There were different clothes on the floor too, and walking closer, Hadrian noted you could dress the models yourself with magic to see how one piece matched another. Additionally, several signs noted different spells you could charm the clothes with, like growth and anti-tear charms. While he was musing and wandering, he was approached by a short woman dressed in a mauve robe with white hair and kind blue eyes.

“Hogwarts, dear?” the woman asked. “I’m Madam Malkin, the owner of this shop. We have another in the back already trying on robes.” 

Hadrian nodded and politely smiled as he was led toward the back. When he reached the back, he found carefully controlled chaos. There were a few different raised platforms with various fabrics and tools around them on the floor. Mirrors covered much of the walls, and several smaller hand mirrors were on the floor and ceiling as well, likely to cover different angles. There were attendants currently fussing over a young boy with pale skin, blond hair, and quicksilver eyes. Hadrian didn’t see anybody that looked like parents for the boy, so they must have been elsewhere. Madam Malkin led him to the platform to the right of the boy and started fussing over him, recording his measurements. 

The boy looked over at Hadrian and said in a drawling voice, “Hogwarts too?” Before he could even respond, the boy continued, “My name is Draco Malfoy, what’s yours?” Hadrian quickly tried to think through his options. He really didn’t want a repeat of the experience in the Leaky Cauldron, but what name to give instead? Would it cause problems later on when Draco found out it wasn’t his real name? Or should he just say his name and get it over with?

Deciding to live in anonymity for a little longer, Hadrian replied with, “Yes, I’m going to Hogwarts too. My name is Rose Evans.” While he truly despised Petunia, he loved his mother fiercely, even years after her passing. It may have been different if he couldn’t remember her, but he had dreamt about that night often enough to even remember what she looked and sounded like. It was hard not to like someone when they sacrificed everything for you. Using her maiden name was a way to honor her, and it’s likely not many would know it at this point. Draco gained an odd glint in his eyes at this, and also gained a bit of a grimace, before his expression smoothed out into polite disinterest. Hadrian frowned a bit internally, as this boy seemed versed in masks as well. He could tell that Draco was faking his reactions, he just wasn’t sure why.

Draco then started talking about Quidditch, which Hadrian knew absolutely nothing about, besides it involving flying on a broomstick, and the houses of Hogwarts. Hadrian paid a small amount of attention, only replying to keep the conversation going, while pondering this new development. A few minutes later, however, one of the attendants patted him on the shoulder and told him he was done. 

Draco regained himself, and moved towards the front of the store with a “See you at Hogwarts, Evans,” thrown over his shoulder. 

Hadrian, being polite, responded with, “See you then, Malfoy.” He assumed it was merely a cultural thing to use last names, since Draco seemed pretty well off. Hopefully following such conversation clues would last until he could truly learn the customs and behaviors for this world he was rather abruptly reintroduced to. More time passed, with pins flitting about, holding garments up against him to measure sizes and pinning certain fabrics in place. Eventually, Madam Malkin let him off the platform and brought him to the front of the store.

“You’re all set deary. One set of Hogwarts robes, gloves, hat, and cloak for you. The robes will automatically update with your house once you’ve been sorted. That will be 5 galleons and 12 knuts,” Madam Malkin said. Hadrian handed the money over and left the shop with his new uniform. The next thing on his list were books, but he knew he would spend ages in the bookstore looking through all the shelves, so he decided on getting his wand next. Plus, Hagrid may come back at any time, and he likely would be looking at many different kinds of books, some of which may not be necessarily approved for a child as young as he is. Hadrian backtracked slightly, and made his way towards Ollivanders.

A bell rang as soon as he opened the door, and Hadrian looked around. It reminded him of a homey log cabin in a way, as the entire store seemed to be made of wood. The only thing missing was a fireplace. Only a small space in front of the door sat a desk, which had papers and various utensils strewn across it. Both walls, as well as several book shelves near the center of the room were filled with boxes, likely containing wands. There was a spiral staircase that led to an upper level, perhaps a living space? There were several lamps throughout the stores, though the back of the stores seemed to be dark. Since nobody was sitting at the front desk, Hadrian merely stood in front of it, waiting for someone to show up. He felt a sense of unease, but not danger. Just as he was contemplating leaving and trying again later, a voice came from behind the shelves.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Potter,” a voice said. A man emerged from behind the shelves and Hadrian’s sense of unease grew. This man had silver hair and blueish eyes that seemed a little faded in some way. He also knew Hadrian’s name, despite not being introduced. The man continued in a slightly raspy voice, “Your mother and father both chose their wands here as well. Hers was ten and a quarter inches, willow, nice and swishy, while his was eleven inches, mahogany, and pliable. Well, I say they chose, but it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard.” Throughout his entire speech, the man, who Hadrian assumed was Ollivander, never broke eye contact with him, or even blinked.

Trying to be polite, Hadrian said, “Thank you for that information about my parents sir, but could I find a wand here as well?”

Ollivander smiled at him, which was still creepy, and said, “Of course Mr. Potter. Why I have just the wand here for you to try.” And so it began, Ollivander handed him a wand, and something either exploded, flew into the air, or just fell apart. With every failure, Ollivander seemed to grow more excited, and Hadrian grew more wary. What reaction was he waiting for? 

Finally, Ollivander handed him another wand, almost shaking in excitement. “Here, Mr. Potter. This one is eleven inches, holly with a phoenix feather core, nice and supple.” Taking the wand, Hadrian felt confused. This wand felt the best out of everything he had tried so far, seeing as it hadn’t exploded his surroundings, but that was not saying much. In fact, the longer he held it, the more _wrong_ it felt. Hadrian put it down after a few seconds, and looked to Ollivander again.

Ollivander looked almost lost, like he suspected that truly was the right wand. He recovered rather quickly, and gave Hadrian an appraising look. After another few moments, Ollivander said, “It seems you’ll be needing a custom wand then, Mr. Potter. Come along now.” Hadrian followed him towards the back room, still slightly on edge from the holly wand earlier. In the back room, many different blocks of wood and substances lined the shelving on the walls and tables. He could see feathers, horns, and various liquids, and so many more. 

Ollivander looked at him with his eerie eyes and said, “Right Mr. Potter, here’s how this will work. You will feel the blocks of wood with your magic, and whichever feels the warmest you will set aside. Depending on how many woods you choose, you may then have to narrow it down further. I believe two, possibly three, woods will be suitable for you.”

Nodding, Hadrian closed his eyes and moved across the tables, hovering his hand over the woods as he passed by. Anytime something felt even remotely warm, he made a noise and Ollivander picked it up to put on a separate table. When the process was complete, he performed it again for the smaller group of woods he had felt warmth from. When all was said and done, he opened his eyes to see two different blocks of wood.

“My, we have fir and pine woods here. Fir wood makes a ‘survivor’s wand’ and often favours owners of focused, strong-minded and, occasionally, intimidating demeanour. Pine, on the other hand, always chooses an independent, individual master who may be perceived as a loner, intriguing and perhaps mysterious. They also have an affinity for non-verbal casting. A very interesting combination, now do the same for your cores. You should find two.”

With the process repeated once more for wand cores, Hadrian opens his eyes to see a strand of black hair that almost seems to absorb the shadows around it, and what looks to be a piece of a horn. Ollivander continues his explanation with, “Your cores are a thestral tail hair and a horned serpent horn. The thestral tail hair often works only with wizards who know themselves very well and have seen death. I have not seen a horned serpent horn wand in ages, Mr. Potter. It’s said that they are particularly powerful, and suited towards parselmouths. Additionally, and this hasn’t been proven, it’s been said that they emit a low musical tone when they sense danger. You will have a very strong wand here Mr. Potter, do not let anyone else use it.”

Hadrian, pleased with his selections, said, “When will it be done Mr. Ollivander?”

Ollivander hummed a bit in thought before saying, “Probably by midday tomorrow, Mr. Potter. I will expect to see you then.” Hadrian nodded and walked out of the building.

Almost immediately after exiting, he found Hagrid waiting for him with a beautiful snowy owl in a cage.

“Hagrid?” Hadrian said, totally confused. “Who is this?”

Hagrid smiled brightly at him before saying, “She’s yours, Harry! I got her for your birthday.”

Hadrian froze up a bit, before thanking Hagrid for the gift. He has never received a birthday present before, and honestly he’s not sure what to make of this gesture. If he were going back to the Dursleys without a plan, he would have to decline outright, as even if the Durlseys didn’t kill the poor creature immediately, then it would have to live in a cage with little food for much of the summer. But is Hagrid just trying to be friendly here? Or is there some ulterior motive, like trying to get him to open up a bit more and spill some secrets? Hadrian lifts up the cage to peer into his new owl’s eyes, and finds himself staring into very intelligent amber eyes. There’s something odd about how this owl is looking at him, as if appraising him in return, trying to determine if he’s worthy of her.

“Well,” Hadrian thinks amused. “She certainly fits me very well, personality wise.”

“What will you name her?” Hagrid asked.

“I’m not sure yet. I need to think of a good name for her,” Hadrian replied, only slightly surprised when the owl looks approving. “Did you buy everything for her Hagrid?”

“Yup! It’s all right here in this bag!” Hagrid said, holding said bag aloft.

Hadrian nodded along, noting that the cage she was in was likely too small. He would withhold judgement for now, but Hagrid likely didn’t get everything, or if he did, it was in a small amount, meaning he would have to go back and buy more soon. Regardless, his last major stop was the bookstore, which meant that Hagrid really needed to leave. Or, Hadrian would have to come back again later, but he also needed to revisit the goblins soon to see what they wanted.

“Hagrid? Do you have something else to do today? I wouldn’t want to take up all of your time,” Hadrian began. “I only have a bit of shopping left to do, and I can walk home by myself afterwards. I’m used to it.”

Hagrid looked uncertain about this. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

Hadrian nodded vigorously. “I’ll be totally fine Hagrid. I actually know the way from here. It’s alright.”

Hagrid still seemed uncertain, but finally agreed. “Alright Harry. I’ll see you at Hogwarts then! The train that will take you to Hogwarts can be found on Platform 9¾, okay?”

Hadrian nodded once more, and Hagrid turned and left with a final goodbye. Hadrian praised any deities that were watching or listening, and looked over at his owl.

“I suppose we better go back then, huh girl?” Hadrian said, not bothered at all about talking to an owl as if she were another person. She seemed to understand him at least, as she barked in what sounded like an affirmative. He looked at her amusedly, before returning to Gringotts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any recognizable dialogue or descriptions are likely from the movie, as when writing this I re-watched the Diagon Alley scene from the first movie.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Discussions of child abuse
> 
> Edited: 2/4/2021 for a small continuity error.

Upon returning to Gringotts, he nodded respectfully once more to the goblins standing guard at the entrance. Surprisingly, they nodded back to him this time, instead of merely glancing at him. Frowning a bit in confusion, Hadrian entered Gringotts once more. He quickly made his way to the large desk at the end of the hall once more, hoping that it was fine to do this again. The same goblin was sitting there, and he looked up at his approach, yet another thing different from his last visit.

Before Hadrian could say a single word, the goblin in front of him said, “Heir Potter, we’ve noticed several discrepancies in your accounts, and you haven’t responded to any of the mail we’ve sent out. In the interest of client confidentiality, we didn’t discuss this with you earlier when others were present. I assume you would like to deal with this now since you have returned?”

Hadrian narrowed his eyes at this new information, confirming what he had suspected. He responded with, “I’m sorry sir, but I haven’t received any mail from this establishment. In fact, I haven’t received any mail in the past ten years, which judging from my status in this world, seems highly unusual.”

The goblin blinked, and narrowed his own eyes in return at that. “It almost sounds like you were unaware of your status until recently,” he said with a forced casual tone.

Hadrian smiled and said in a perfectly pleasant tone, “I was, in fact, unaware of who I was. I have never, to my knowledge, met anyone from the magical world after that Halloween night.”

Almost every goblin that was close enough was obviously listening in, as they sported various looks of outrage and disbelief. Thankfully, the hall was mostly empty of other clients, and those that were present were far enough away so as to not hear the incriminating conversation taking place just down the hall.

The goblin in front of him was no exception, and with a vicious looking sneer replied with a curt, “Follow me, Heir Potter.” Hadrian nodded, hoped he wasn’t about to be disappeared, and carried his few new belongings with him as they seemed to enter a labyrinth of hallways. They took many turns, before finally arriving at a large, ornate door, with the name Ragnok on it. The goblin knocked on the door firmly, and waited until a sound came from within before opening the door. Hadrian followed him inside, and admired the space presented to him. It was an office space, but very well decorated and lit. There were various weapons and shields mounted on the walls, all made from what seemed to be precious metals or jewels. Whoever Ragnok was, he was apparently very high up in goblin society. Tuning back in, the goblins seemed to be conversing in their own language, which was very rough and gravelly sounding, when Ragnok turned towards him.

“Heir Potter? Ironclaw here tells me you knew next to nothing before coming here today? Would you like to corroborate these claims?”

Hadrian could hear the demand in the question, and normally would have been as politely irritating as possible while still doing what was demanded of him. It was a subtle form of rebellion, and an endless source of amusement in his relatively terrible situation. Despite feeling that the goblins would approve of this on someone else, doing it with them seemed like a not so great idea, especially because they controlled his money. He straightened up and looked the goblin in the eye, unflinchingly.

“I apologize in advance if I say or do anything that offends you, as I know nothing of wizarding culture, let alone goblin culture.” Both goblins looked surprised at this, before waving him on, obviously wanting to hear his explanation. “While I don’t remember everything, I remember enough. My father tried to buy us time to get away, which failed. My mother tried to bargain for my life, and she also failed. I do not know how I lived through the night, but when Voldemort cast a spell on me that was green, it bounced off of me and hit him instead.”

“That would have been the killing curse, Heir Potter,” Ironclaw interrupted. Hadrian realized his voice had gone somewhat flat, and cleared his throat, nodding at Ironclaw.

“Thank you,” Hadrian stated, obviously thanking him for the break instead. “I lost consciousness right after that, and didn’t wake again until I heard shrill screaming,” Hadrian continued with a grimace. “I was placed with my non-magical aunt, Petunia Dursley, and her husband and son, Vernon and Dudley Dursley, respectively. I was told later that I was placed on their doorstep in the night with only a blanket, my black dog stuffed animal, and a note. To this day I do not know what the note said. However, given my upbringing, I’m willing to guess it said something about my parents dying, me being magical, and a threat to keep me there no matter what.”

“And why would that be, Heir Potter?” Ragnok interrupted, his voice hard.

Hadrian looked between them, debating briefly of whether he should tell them. The abuse, for him, was just a fact of life. He wanted to change it, of course, but nobody had believed him before, and he couldn’t exactly take steps by himself. Well, aside from running away. Which he had tried. Making his choice, Hadrian stared at the wall between them, and said with no inflection, “Because I was beaten bloody for the first time when I was four. I started doing all the chores in the house by the time I was six. I was also six the first time I ran away, and a little more than 24 hours later, I was found and dragged back. Were it not for my memory of my name, I would have thought it was freak or boy until I started school, as that’s the only thing they ever called me. My room as of the past ten years has been a cupboard under the stairs, I hardly ever get any food or water, and I was beaten nearly every day. I was basically a slave to them.” Hadrian met their eyes once more, noting that they both were more furious than before. “Does that answer your question?”

“It does, Heir Potter,” Ragnok practically hissed out. He then conversed more in the guttural language he was speaking in earlier. Ironclaw bowed, and quickly left the office. “Rest assured, the goblins of Gringotts will help you pursue justice, should you want it.” Hadrian smiled at him. It was not a nice smile.

“That would be excellent, Ragnok. Do you have a title I should call you by, or is it just Ragnok? I can also assume that with you tacking heir onto my name, that I’m inheriting something here today?”

Ragnok merely looked at Hadrian for a moment, before sighing slightly. “Yes, you stand to inherit quite a bit, actually. Chief Ragnok is fine. Ironclaw left to grab the materials for an inheritance test, which will show not only everything you stand to inherit, but also any spells, potions, or blocks on your system, any contracts you may have in your name, and several other things. I suspect it should be rather _enlightening._ ” Hadrian nodded to show he understood. While he waited, he let his owl out of her cage for the first time, but not before asking if it was alright with Chief Ragnok. He didn’t want to be rude, after all. Almost immediately after being released, the owl flew onto his arm and bit his finger. Hadrian hissed a bit in pain, before seeing a golden light connect him and the owl before fading.

“What was that for?” Hadrian asked, while giving his owl a look.

“To establish our bond, you silly child,” a melodious female voice said. “I didn’t want to do it earlier while we were around the large man.” 

Hadrian startled from the voice coming from in his _head,_ before sighing. “I assume this is my owl talking to me?” He said both aloud and in his head, asking for confirmation from two parties. Both owl and goblin looked at him amused and confirmed it. Thankfully, Ironclaw came back before anything _else_ could happen, and offered the inheritance test to Chief Ragnok. It seemed to be just a piece of parchment and some liquid in a bowl, along with a quill.

“Heir Potter,” Chief Ragnok began. “Merely put seven drops of blood into this bowl, and the quill will write out the information we discussed before onto the parchment.” Hadrian nodded, and accepted the knife he was offered. He made a small cut on his finger, and let seven drops fall into the bowl, before cleaning the knife and sucking his finger to stop the blood flow. Both goblins gave him approving looks for it, and Hadrian wondered at the general intelligence of wizards. Were they just leaving their blood all over the place, if the goblins were so impressed with him? He didn’t even really know any magic and he could already tell that would be a terrible idea! The quill jumped out of the bowl and started writing down information frantically. As the list grew longer on the parchment, Hadrian watched the goblins. They both seemed grimmer the longer the list went on, so he suspected that much wasn’t normal. Finally, the list was done and Hadrian picked up the parchment.

**Name:**

Hadrian Rose Potter-Black

**Born:**

July 31st, 1980 (Age: 11)

**Parents:**

James Charlus Potter (birth father)(status: deceased)

Lily Jasmine Potter née Evans (birth mother)(status: deceased)

Sirius Orion Black-Lupin (blood adopted father, August 1st, 1980)(status: alive, incarcerated)

Remus John Black-Lupin (blood adopted father, August 1st, 1980)(status: alive)

**Godparents:**

Severus Tobias Prince (status: alive)

Alice Lynn Longbottom née Meadows (status: alive, compromised)

**Magical Guardian:**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore (illegally)

**Inheritances:**

Heir of the Ancient and Noble Family of Potter (birth, paternal)

Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble Family of Black (blood adoption)

Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble Family of Peverell (birth, paternal & maternal)

Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Family of Slytherin (conquest, birth, maternal)

Heir of the Ancient Family of Gaunt (conquest, birth, maternal)

**Vaults:**

Potter Family Vault (see account manager for details of estate)

Hadrian’s Trust Vault (10,000 galleons added every year on birthday)

Black Family Vault (see account manager for details of estate)

Peverell Family Vault (see account manager for details of estate)

Slytherin Family Vault (see account manager for details of estate)

Gaunt Family Vault (see account manager for details of estate)

**Magical Abilities:**

Core: Dark-Grey

Parselmouth

Natural Healer

Born Carrier

**Magical Compulsions:**

Loyalty keyed to: Albus Dumbledore, Order of the Phoenix, Gryffindor, Molly Weasley

Hatred keyed to: Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, Slytherin, Severus Snape, Dark Magic

Indifference keyed to: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Remus Lupin

Submissiveness keyed to: Albus Dumbledore, Order of the Phoenix

**Magical Blocks:**

Core: Dark-Grey (60% blocked, Albus Dumbledore, November 1st, 1981)

Parselmouth (Block broken - Albus Dumbledore, November 1st, 1981)

Godparent Bond (100% blocked - Albus Dumbledore, November 1st, 1981)

Blood Glamour (Albus Dumbledore, November 1st, 1981)

Mail Ward (Albus Dumbledore, November 1st, 1981)

Horcrux (Soul Leech, Tom Marvolo Riddle, October 31st, 1981)

**Familiars:**

1 Snowy Owl (recognized)

Any snake Hadrian Potter deems worthy

**Contracts:**

Marriage Contract between Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley (signed by Albus Dumbledore and Molly Weasley)

By the time Hadrian is finished reading, he’s fighting to maintain his composure. The goblins look between themselves, and are likely about to interrupt, when his owl flies onto his shoulder and nuzzles his hair. Impossibly, this manages to calm him down enough that he can hand the offending parchment over to the goblins and try to calm himself down further.

“I really need to name you,” he thinks at his owl, trying to distract himself from his whirling thoughts. “Unless you already have a name, or would prefer to name yourself?” She huffs, and he can tell she’s somewhat exasperated, and very aware of what he’s doing.

“No, I don’t have a name I prefer. My only request is that you _please_ be creative, and not name me something like Snow.”

Hadrian laughs, which startles the goblins somewhat, probably because it sounds slightly hysterical and came out of nowhere, from their perspective.

“Please tell me we can fix at least some of this,” he asks them. 

“Yes, Heir Potter, we most definitely can. Most of this can be fixed with a ritual purge, and we will discuss anything else afterwards.”

“Splendid,” Hadrian says, only somewhat sarcastically. “How long will all of this take? And how much will it cost?”

Ironclaw and Ragnok look at each other, seeming to debate without saying anything, before turning back to him. “The purge itself will likely not take much time at all, but you will be unconscious afterward for quite some time, due to all of the problems needing correction. You will most definitely be able to afford it comfortably, but we can discuss this after the purge. We will look after your belongings and familiar during that time.”

Hadrian nods, only somewhat placated regarding the cost, before something occurs to him. “Say,” he starts slowly, hoping he’s wrong. “If I have some form of tracker on me, it would have shown up on that test right?”

“Yes, Heir Potter,” Ironclaw states. “I assume this in reference to your running away at the age of six?”

“Correct, Ironclaw,” Hadrian confirms. “I assume that Dumbledore, considering the information contained in that test, is the one behind most of the manipulations surrounding my life so far, and I’d rather not have him find out I’m at Gringotts for an extended period of time. Is there a way you could fix that somehow?” Ironclaw and Ragnok converse with each other for a bit, before turning back to him.  
“It depends entirely on how they found you. The most likely explanation would be that there is an alarm ward set on the house, and it alarms the caster if the target leaves. Parents often use this for babies in cribs, though your situation is different, as I presume you leave the property at least occasionally?” The way the goblins look at him indicates that the answer to that question better be a yes. After his confirming nod, they continue.

“Then the ward was likely modified to only alarm the caster after a certain amount of time passed, which seems to be 24 hours in your case. Given what you have already told us about your situation, I highly doubt you were gone for longer than that at any time over the past 10 years. All of this is mere speculation, however, and we won’t be able to truly answer your question until we look at it ourselves.”

“At more monetary cost, I’m sure,” Hadrian said wryly. Both goblins smirked at him.

“Our business is finished until your purge is over then, Heir Potter,” Ragnok stated. “Ironclaw, lead him to the ritual rooms.” Ironclaw bowed before replying in the guttural language again, before walking over to him and quickly leading him out of the room. After more maze-like hallways, they arrived at what looked like a patient wing, with many beds and just as many curtains separating them. It was empty, however, which filled Hadrian with relief.

There were also many doors leading out of this room, and other goblins approached them coming through these doors. Ironclaw and what Hadrian presumes are the goblin healers converse for a bit, before Ironclaw shows them a portion of his inheritance test. The group looks at it and swears viciously, before eyeing him closely.

“Follow us, Heir Potter, and we will take you to the ritual room to fix your various issues,” one of the goblins stated. Hadrian nodded and followed them into a room that had many markings along the floors and walls. The magic in the room felt almost oppressive, and Hadrian stumbled slightly upon entering. The goblins paid no heed to him, and started setting up what they needed. Once finished, they turned back towards him and said, “Disrobe, Heir Potter, and lay in the center of the circle.”

Hadrian did so with slight apprehension, and the goblins started to chant in their guttural language. He felt nothing at first, but the pain quickly escalated. It coursed through his whole body, with a specific concentration around his scar, oddly enough. He held on through the pain, hoping it would be over soon. Then he felt his bones and muscles moving. The pain was intense, and he quickly passed out after screaming himself hoarse.

He woke up later, extremely disorientated. Sitting up felt very awkward, as his body shape seemed to have changed somewhat, and his eyes, while not perfect, were much better. Less than a minute after waking up, a goblin bustled in and checked him over, before speaking.

“Greetings Heir Potter. The purge was successful, and you have been unconscious for 18 hours and 37 minutes. You will need to take a series of potions for some time to get to a healthy benchmark. Unfortunately, the lack of nutrients at such a critical point of development will likely leave your growth stunted in some way. This will likely take the form of reduced height and some physical weakness for the rest of your life. I will also warn you that you will likely feel nauseous and off balance for the next day or two as your systems adjust to the changes. I can lead you back to Chief Ragnok if you feel up to it?”

Despite feeling somewhat weak, Hadrian was anxious to continue the meeting from before, so he responded with, “That would be excellent, thank you. Could I also ask for food and drink to be provided? I feel like this will be a rather long discussion.”

The healer smirked at him. “Of course, Heir Potter.” Leading Hadrian back to Ragnok’s rooms, the healer knocked on the door and waited for a noise, as Ironclaw did. Once they received it, the healer nodded to him, and Hadrian entered the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we have reached the "inheritance test" chapter, let me state unequivocally that there will be Molly and Dumbledore bashing, but likely no (or very little) Ron, Hermione, or Ginny bashing. Ginny has no knowledge of the marriage contract, though it will almost certainly come up in the future and Ginny will be big mad (about it existing at all, not about it being destroyed/not followed).  
> And why yes, there is something funny with that inheritance test. It will most definitely not be a plot point in the future, nope, absolutely not.  
> The next chapter is a big info dump, and I apologize, but I wanted this Harry to know certain things, and the goblins were the easiest way of informing him. It may also seem out of character for this Harry to trust the goblins to such an extent, but the reasons for it are explained in the next two chapters for the most part.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Discussions of abuse  
> Manipulative Albus Dumbledore/bashing of Dumbledore

Once inside, he found Ragnok sitting behind his desk like earlier, with his owl still perched in the same spot she was yesterday.

He took a moment to admire her, before saying, “I have an idea for your name, if you would like to hear it now?” Upon hearing her agreement, he said, “I like the name Hedwig for you. It’s loosely based on a Scandinavian female name meaning strife, and there are several saints named Hedwig, one of which is the patron saint of orphans. Rather fitting for you and I, hmm?” The owl mulled it over for a bit, before trilling in agreement. Grabbing a plate of food for himself, he turned back towards Ragnok, waiting for him to speak.

“Heir Potter, we have many matters to discuss here today. First, is in regards to your… home,” Ragnok said with a sneer. “We were not able to disable the wards in the time provided without alerting the caster. We do have some information for you, however. The caster was one Albus Dumbledore, who also, coincidentally, happens to be your illegal magical guardian. He has also had access to your vaults for the past 10 years, due to having your key.”

“And what, exactly, are the responsibilities of a magical guardian, Chief Ragnok?” Hadrian asked coldly. If his suspicions were correct…

“Why, to ensure the child is raised adequately, of course. If the child is an heir, it is also the magical guardian’s responsibility to educate the child of what that entails,” Ragnok said blithely.

Hadrian was ready to murder this man. Dumbledore was likely the person that left him with the Dursleys, and even if he wasn’t, Dumbledore should have checked up on him at some point during the past ten years. That he didn’t is extremely suspicious. At  _ best, _ he is extremely negligent of his duties, and considering this is the same man that is headmaster of a school?  _ And, _ this man had access to his family vaults!

“I don’t suppose I need to mention the fact that I’ve never seen Albus Dumbledore in my life? And, given my…  _ care _ at that house, that no money was spent on my wellbeing and happiness?” Hadrian said with a bland tone.

“Really, Heir Potter? My, what a situation we seem to find ourselves in,” Ragnok said with a gleam in his eye. “Based on our interactions thus far, I assume you have some plan in mind for your relatives, since you will need to stay at the house for the time being. Gringotts will almost certainly be able to modify the wards before next summer, so you won’t have to return after this school year, but if you would like certain parties to remain unaware of your newfound knowledge, you will have to stay there until school starts, at the very least.” Hadrian could tell the goblin was disgruntled about that, though whether it was out of concern for Hadrian or that Gringotts was unable to fix a problem immediately, he was unsure.   
“Why, yes. During my shopping trip, I bought a trunk that has a few excess charms on it, as well as a sizable living space,” Hadrian said. Ragnok smirked, before continuing to speak.

“Additionally, there was evidence of something called blood wards, which are usually used to protect family members if one branch of the family is targeted for one reason or another. Unfortunately in your case, these wards never activated, as the muggles were unable to provide any magic to fuel them, in addition to the fact that although you shared blood with them, they did not love you. Such a thing is key for blood wards to function,” Ragnok said.

“So you’re telling me that Albus Dumbledore used my mother’s sacrifice to force me to stay with those people for my  _ protection? _ And it didn’t even  _ work? _ ” Hadrian practically growled out.

“Correct, Heir Potter,” Ragnok said, also displeased. “While we were there, we also took the liberty of finding and removing the note you said was left with you.”

“Was the note what I suspected it was?” Hadrian asked.

Ragnok sneered in distaste. “Your conclusions were correct, Heir Potter. In summary, the note stated that your parents were dead, that an evil wizard killed them, you needed to stay with them for your safety, and that you being dropped off at, say, an orphanage, would result in some  _ unpleasantness _ for them.”

“Well that explains quite a lot then,” Hadrian huffed. Seeing the look Ragnok gave him, Hadrian continued, “They despised me not only because I was disrupting their perfectly normal lives, but also because I was a threat, essentially. They may be idiots most of the time, but they could read between the lines perfectly well. The fact that I supposedly needed their protection meant that somebody out there was still trying to harm or kill me, and so, they wanted nothing to do with me. Because of the threat in that note, however, they couldn’t.”

Ragnok moved on, “We will go through your inheritance test now, unless you have something else to address?”

“Why are you helping me to such a degree?” Hadrian immediately fired back. “And will there be a cost for this help, aside from the cost for the purge?”

Ragnok blinked, before sneering, seeming pleased by his suspicions. “Normally, we would not help at all. Many wizards are foolish, believing themselves superior simply because they can do things we can’t. We typically do not involve ourselves with wizarding conflicts at all. There are many reasons we help you though, Heir Potter, and only a few are selfish. A very large reason is that, prior to this inheritance test, we thought you were the only heir to the Potter and Black fortunes. You are almost the sole inheritor of both houses, with only a few relatives left on the Black side still alive. This means that nearly all the family wealth for both families would eventually funnel into you, making you one of the wealthiest clients Gringotts has. 

“Obviously, more houses have been discovered due to this test, which only increases your value in the eyes of Gringotts. This is because many of these houses have been inactive for decades or centuries, meaning the money is being unused, and thus, not making profit. With you around, we can start making money off these unused vaults again.”

“So, business,” Hadrian mused. “I can respect that.”

“There are a few more reasons, Heir Potter,” Ragnok continued, amused now. “Another reason is your behavior whilst in our bank, as well as your immediate families behavior as well. James and Lily Potter, as well as Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black were all respectful in their interactions with all goblins, as are you. They even started learning our customs and language to better understand and communicate with us. If they had continued on that track, they would have been declared formal goblin friends, which means we would have been honor bound to help them with their conflicts. Unfortunately, one can’t be declared a goblin friend posthumously, and we have reason to suspect that the others have been potioned or spelled as you were.”

Hadrian almost scoffed. “I would say showing basic respect towards people shouldn’t be worth all that, but wizards apparently lack common sense. I mean, they really think I’m the one that defeated Voldemort? An actual baby? It’s much more likely that my mother and father did something. Not to mention treating the people who handle all of their wealth terribly seems like an awful idea.”

Ragnok chuckled. “Shall we move on then?” After Hadrian nodded in agreement, Ragnok began speaking once more. “The first thing you will likely be confused on is the blood adoption. Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black either could not or would not conceive children of their own, so they decided to blood adopt you. In doing so, they became your parents, biologically, legally, and magically. They did not replace your parents, merely added onto what already existed. Speaking of which,” Ragnok reached under his desk to grab something. He continued, “You had a blood glamour on you, which made you look much more like James Potter, for reasons we cannot fathom. I suspect you haven’t yet seen your new appearance yet, so take a look.”

Hadrian took the mirror cautiously, and almost dropped it in shock. He looked almost totally different! His hair, instead of being jet black, now had a red tint to it. It was also much more manageable now, and had grown a few inches. His eyes, which were a very vibrant, almost sickly green before, were now emerald green with a silver ring around the edge of the iris. His facial structure changed to be more defined and aristocratic, and his lips were fuller as well. He looked very androngynous, and would likely continue to look that way as well.

“Oh dear,” Hadrian thought. “This is going to do nothing for my vanity.” Hedwig cooed at him through their bond. Giving her a dirty look, he handed the mirror back to Ragnok with a polite thank you, and asked, “So what happened to them, and also my godparents? Why was I even sent to the Dursleys in the first place?”

Ragnok grunted and answered with a curt, “Because Dumbledore willed it to be. That man has far too much power over wizarding society, and the public believes him to be infallible. We suspect he wanted access to your accounts as your magical guardian, and have continued access after you rejoined our world due to your ignorance. Thankfully, magical guardians only have access to smaller vaults and a stipend, and not to the entire family vault if they are not related by blood.”

“And can he be removed as my magical guardian?” Hadrian asked shrewdly.

“At this time, no. You are a minor until the age of seventeen, even though you are the last of several notable houses. As such, you need a magical guardian. You could apply for emancipation, but it would almost certainly be denied due to Dumbledore, not to mention others that seek to control you. Even if you had someone apply to be your magical guardian, it would take serious effort for the change to go through. That person would basically have to have a reputation to rival Merlin’s, with how popular Dumbledore is. Unless, of course, you can showcase Dumbledore’s faults to the public. That, however, would certainly tip your hand, and if it failed, you would likely end up in a worse situation.”

“Well, this should be fun, then,” Hadrian said sarcastically. “I only have to orchestrate the downfall of a man who can do no wrong and has control over many important aspects of my life. Not to mention will be physically present and watching me for nine months out of the year.”

“Moving on,” Ragnok sneered. “Your family is scattered. Sirius Lupin-Black is in Azkaban prison for the reported crime of betraying your parents to the Dark Lord and killing thirteen muggles and Peter Pettigrew. That is an impossibility, however, as you are his heir and blood adopted son. The vow that he took upon adopting you into his family would have killed him immediately if he had actually betrayed you in such a way. Many have tried and failed to claim the Black vaults since his imprisonment, and the reason they couldn’t was because he was never actually convicted of anything, as there was never a trial. Dumbledore is likely responsible for Sirius being in prison, as Sirius would have had primary custody of you otherwise. People seem to think he was merely named godfather, and did not go through with the corresponding ritual. This lie was likely spread by Dumbledore, to ensure nobody goes digging too deeply into the situation.

“Remus Lupin-Black and Severus Prince, on the other hand, have likely been potioned, spelled, or both. Neither have visited our establishment since that night, despite having access to several vaults as Consort Black and Lord Prince, respectively. Unfortunately, none of the three were wearing the family rings back in 1981. Family rings have protections built into them to help avoid these situations of magical tampering.

“Lastly, we have Alice Longbottom, your godmother. She and her husband, Frank, are residents of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungos. They were tortured under the cruciatus curse for an extended period of time, and lost their sanity because of it. This happened mere days after your parents were attacked, and Dumbledore likely sequestered you away before they could request custody. Their son, Neville Longbottom, who is actually your godbrother, currently resides at Longbottom Manor with Augusta Longbottom, his grandmother.”

Hadrian tried to compose himself and not be consumed by the icy rage currently festering inside him. He really just wanted to go and kill Dumbledore right now, but that wouldn’t save his family. He needed to play this smart and plan things out, as it would likely take years to bring this man down. With a mental nudge from Hedwig, he dragged himself back to what he could do in the immediate future.

“And the rest?” Hadrian said in a carefully controlled voice.

“Two more things, Heir Potter. The first, is the horcrux that was embedded in your scar. A horcrux is the vilest of soul magic. It splits your soul in half, and then that piece of soul is encased inside an object. Doing so essentially makes you immortal, as your soul would remain if your body is destroyed. There are several problems with this, however. Splitting your soul, as you might imagine, has consequences. It often leads to the person becoming weaker magically, and also splits their mind. Such a thing often leads to the individual going insane. Based on the size of the soul shard in your head, we believe he made multiple horcruxes,” Ragnok finished blandly.

Hadrian wanted to throw up all the food he had just eaten. “That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard. Not only did I have a piece of my parents’ murderer in my head, but he had actually made several of those things?”

Ragnok nodded. “Indeed, Heir Potter. We will discuss options for that and what to do later on, as this is already a rather long meeting, and you need to return soon to avoid the wards. The last thing we should discuss is the contract between you and Ms. Weasley.”

“Cancel it,” Hadrian said immediately. “I’ve never met her or anyone that supposedly created it.”

“We suspected as much,” Ragnok sneered. He then snapped his fingers, and the contract appeared before them. “I do believe you should look at it, however, to see what they planned for you.” Hadrian looked it over, and wanted to be ill once again. These people wanted to enslave him, essentially. He would have had next to no say about anything in his life, as all his decisions would either do through Dumbledore, Molly, or Ginevra. Not to mention that all his money and political power would go to the others as well. Disgusted, Hadrian pushed the contract back toward Ragnok and spoke in a firm voice.

“Please tell me I can cancel this.”

“Unfortunately, as a minor, you cannot cancel the contract yourself. The contract itself is illegal, however, as only parents or lords of the family can sign marriage contracts, not magical guardians. Not to mention it requires both your and young Ginevra’s signature. This gives you several options, Heir Potter. You could call for immediate judgement from Magic, who will punish everyone who signed the illegal contract. You could wait and have another magical guardian cancel this contract for you, since we know Dumbledore will not. You could attempt to take this to court to have it destroyed, which you should win. You could just not deal with it at all, since it’s currently non-binding, as neither participant of the marriage has actually signed it yet. Of them all, I recommend waiting, since once you are 17 you can cancel it yourself with no fuss, if no other solutions present themselves.”

Thinking it over, Hadrian agreed. He had several possibilities for magical guardians, and if, for some reason, none of them wanted to destroy the contract, he could probably take them to court. He could always call upon Magic for judgement as well, if it came down to it.

“Before you go, Heir Potter, I would like to get you your heir rings. These rings will signify your status, and also prevent you from falling victim to many minor hexes, jinxes, and curses, along with love potions and legilimency, which is essentially mind reading,” Ragnok said.

“Let me guess,” Hadrian said sardonically. “Dumbledore is a master at using legilimency?”

Ragnok smirked as he pulled out several boxes. “You’re catching on very quick, Heir Potter.” He pulled out five different boxes, all different colors. “I would recommend putting on the Potter and Black Heir rings first, and then the others can be put on in any order after that,” Ragnok stated. Hadrian nodded and reached for the two boxes that were pushed closer to him.

All five rings were rather simple, with a crest emblazoned on the front. The Slytherin and Black rings were more ornate, with gems surrounding them, but the other three rings were rather plain. He distinctly felt something watching and judging him as he put each ring on, but he seemed to pass whatever test he was put through, as nothing else happened. He then watched, fascinated, as all five rings morphed into one.

“Those rings have morphed into one in order to make it less cumbersome to have them all,” Ragnok explained. “If you need a specific one, you only need to think of it and it shall appear.”

Hadrian nodded, slightly dazed, before asking, “What’s next then?”

Ragnok smirked at him again before saying, “Now, Heir Potter, you return home, and come back tomorrow and we plan the downfall of our mutual enemy and, by extension, the salvation of your family.”

Hadrian smirked right back. “Until tomorrow then, Chief Ragnok.”

The rest of summer passed by fairly uneventfully. Hadrian returned to the accursed house, making sure he was unseen, and put his trunk in the unused attic. His relatives haven’t gone into the attic in years, and while a Notice-Me-Not charm sounds all well and good, what happens if somebody stumbles over his supposedly unnoticeable trunk? No, better to put it in a place that people don’t frequent. There’s also a window for Hedwig to fly out of, and she’s been pretty busy, carrying correspondence between himself and Gringotts, as well as several other stores. Since his relatives also didn’t see him return, he’s able to steal food from them at night as well. Petunia just assumes it’s Vernon or Dudley, and they both assume the other is the culprit.

The day after the goblins healed him and then dumped all of that information on his head, he returned to the Alley to finish his shopping. He picked up his wand, to Ollivander’s muttering about “great things”. The man was still as unnerving as ever, but seemed harmless. He returned to Madam Malkins as well, who ironically didn’t recognize him, and bought more clothes. Now that he knew about his considerable wealth, he refused to stay in Dudley’s castoffs a moment longer. He bought an entire wardrobe, complete with growing charms so he wouldn’t have to return for a couple years. This, predictably, sent the shop into a tizzy due to all the money they would soon be making.

Hadrian left them to it, heading to Flourish and Botts to pick up all kinds of books, some of them not strictly necessary for school. Among them were politics, wizarding history, magical theory, and latin. Merlin knew how many enemies he would have to deal with over the next few years, so if that meant devouring every scrap of knowledge he could so that he could protect himself, he would do so.

Hadrian finished shopping for his Hogwarts supplies, and bought more things for Hedwig as well, like a larger cage. He could already tell her current one was too small, even before she complained about it. He then returned to the bank for the first of a long series of visits and conversations about his vaults. The details were mind-numbingly boring, but Hadrian persisted, because he wanted to know all about every aspect of his estates. He trusted the goblins more than he trusted most everyone else, but he had not ruled out the possibility of betrayal, or them doing things to suit themselves without telling him. He would do the same if the positions were reversed, so he didn’t really fault them for it. Besides, they would try to avoid getting on his bad side due to how much money he had in Gringotts. He had done some research, and while there weren’t many other banks in Britain for wizarding money, there were some. He didn’t think he would ever have to remove everything from Gringotts, but he wanted to know all his options.

They also answered whatever questions he had, which raised them in his estimation as well. He didn’t trust everything they said, of course, at least not without checking it with multiple other sources. They had not lied to him, however, and provided some invaluable information. Like where and how to get the potions necessary for his growth after his less than ideal childhood. Or what the rest of his inheritance test meant, like being a natural carrier, which was actually rather embarrassing. 

He devoted the rest of his summer studying up on the magical world, and was distinctly unimpressed. The magical world, as a whole, seemed to develop much slower culturally than the muggle one. Not to mention the two wars in the last hundred years about blood purity and the right to “rule the muggles”. Despite the massive loss of life, they appear to have done nothing to actually fix the problems that caused the wars in the first place. Even if Voldemort were truly dead, (which he isn’t, and wasn’t that a fun conversation with the goblins) another power hungry lunatic would likely rise to power within the next decade or so. And that doesn’t even touch on the fact that the wizarding world seems to think the muggles are harmless. Haven’t these people heard of guns before? Or bombs? Hadrian doesn’t care how strong the wards surrounding places supposedly are,  _ one _ bomb and the place will be decimated. The muggles could also decide to eliminate all life on the planet with atomic bombs, and Hadrian truly wished he believed them incapable of it. But his life so far hasn’t exactly inspired confidence in muggles confronting magic, which is an unknown and  _ uncontrollable _ (to them) power.

It would be a massacre. For both sides.

Hadrian isn’t quite certain what to do about it. Despite what his fame and all the books about him say (and wasn’t that a surprise), he is not, in fact, a kind and generous soul. If exposure of magic didn’t result in the possible genocide of the human race and likely death of the planet, he would probably not get involved at all. He is still a child, after all, despite his maturity. But to get involved means amassing a power base to make the changes necessary for the magical world to continue surviving and avoid detection. Which does actually sound kind of fun...

But Merlin, the  _ paperwork. _ Not to mention dealing with  _ people. _ And from everything he’s read about the magical world, his greatest challenge might honestly be convincing the magicals that muggles are a danger. He already has a blueprint to power due to Voldemort and Grindelwald, though he would prefer not to use some of their more… drastic methods. Fear obviously didn’t work for them, so he needs something else… Loyalty perhaps? They had that in their followers, but the rest of the population feared them and the potential damage they could cause. Or, he could try Dumbledore’s method, and work from the shadows while having his hands in near everything with a sterling reputation to match. As loathe as he is to admit anything positive about the man, his methods have certainly worked. Dumbledore has essentially ruled magical Britain for the past several decades and people have praised him for it. Obviously, that would change if the populace knew about all his manipulations of people and events, but the point still stands.

Hadrian contemplated his future as September 1st approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah this chapter. This is the end of what I have pre-written, and what has undergone the most revisions since then.  
> I feel I should warn you now, that though this Harry can have his moments (in both directions), he will be a very morally grey character. He will not be as murder happy as Tom is/will be, but neither will he rule it out as an option. It will come up quite often, actually, though not for a few years yet.  
> Also, Arcturus Black, Sirius' grandfather and Lord Black, dies in 1991 in canon. For the purposes of this story, I'm assuming he died before Sirius was thrown in Azkaban. Also, pretend that Sirius made up with the not shitty parts of his family, and was only disowned by Walburga, someone who had no authority in determining such a thing.


	7. Chapter 7

Hadrian surveyed the bustling train station with a barely concealed grimace. How was he meant to find Platform 9¾? Logic would tell you it’s between platforms 9 and 10, but as he had learned over the past several weeks, magicals seemed to be anything  _ but _ logical. Glorifying a war orphan for defeating the very evil and bad dark lord, instead of his very capable and  _ adult  _ parents? Check. Giving a  _ weapon _ to children, and then expecting everything to be just fine in a school setting, despite the apparent house rivalries and opposing ideological viewpoints? Check. The history of inbreeding to keep the lines “pure”, while also wondering why their magic was declining with every generation? Check. Hadrian honestly wasn’t sure he could design a more convoluted society if he tried. Hedwig had looked at him with fond amusement whenever he ranted to her about it, and then called him adorable. Since Hadrian was smart, and didn’t want his familiar angry with him, or an owl dive bombing his face, he allowed the comments.

Hadrian decided to hope magicals would actually be somewhat competent for once, and headed for the area between platforms 9 and 10. Once he arrived, he started subtly looking around, trying to project an aura of  _ definitely not lost _ . He really didn’t want to deal with questions from muggles concerned about a child at the train station alone.

While looking around, Hadrian noticed that one of the walls looked...off. It was as if it was a painting, and the artist forgot to fill in a few details to make it more lifelike. Hadrian figured that was a good place to start and approached the wall. Carefully, Hadrian reached out his hand and was surprised when his hand disappeared into the wall. Concealing a smile at the wonders of magic, Hadrian walked through the wall, and into what looked like a mirror image of the station he just left. The only difference was that there was only one train, which was gleaming red and with Hogwarts Express emblazoned on the front.

“Well what do you know,” Hadrian thought. “The Wizarding World can make sense sometimes.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Hedwig chimed in, amused as always. She seemed to enjoy his biting and sarcastic sense of humor, and almost always responded in kind. They bonded over casually insulting almost everyone they came across, and Hadrian ignored the fact that his owl often had better insults than he did. She got particularly creative whenever she saw his relatives, which Hadrian figured was a protective instinct rearing its head. He firmly counted her as his first friend.

Hadrian quickly moved towards the train, trying to avoid the bustle and noise of families dropping off their children. Thankfully, nobody shouted out “Harry Potter!”, so even if somebody saw him, they didn’t recognize him. What was interesting, however, were the families themselves. Hadrian knew, theoretically, what a good family was and looked like. He’d seen and read enough for that, despite his own unfortunate situation. Looking over the station, however, revealed an interesting dynamics. Many of the children had blank faces as their parents either fussed over them or ignored them entirely. Their masks were impressive, but their posture and body language gave them away to anyone who was looking close enough. Almost all of them held themselves stiffly, and some of them flinched slightly when their parents looked at them.

Which, rather horrifyingly, made sense.

These children were members of important families, families that were now almost  _ extinct _ due to the massive upheaval over the past 100 years and two wars. In some cases, they were the  _ sole heir _ of their entire family line, like Hadrian himself was. Add in the fact that some people believed Voldemort was still alive and would eventually return, and you have an entire  _ generation _ of kids raised harshly, to either sacrifice their lives and future to Voldemort, or live long enough to carry on the line, no matter the cost. He wouldn’t be surprised if nearly all of the pureblood kids had marriage contracts from birth, regardless of what they themselves wanted.

The muggleborns obviously didn’t have those problems, but they had their own set that was just as debilitating. Despite the dark having lost the war, they still controlled much of the government. Muggleborns often couldn’t find work after graduating, and faced extreme prejudice even if they could. Seeking work in the muggle world wasn’t feasible for most either, since they stopped attending muggle education at 11. And that’s if they even survived to graduation. Hadrian was horrified, but not surprised, to find that some muggleborns just disappeared during the summers between school years. They were often later found dead, murdered by their own families due to their magic.

The goblins were very thorough whenever Hadrian asked questions, and he later confirmed it with research and just watching people in the alley. He found himself disgusted and disappointed with adults once more, but the children…

Some of them would be too afraid to move, to risk consequences, but the others…

And if he was the one to gather them all together, give them other options,  _ better _ options...

Now he just had to figure out how to make them get along for just long enough to realize they would either succeed or fail together, muggleborns and purebloods both. The clock was ticking, and time was running out for magicals in Britain, who ironically might destroy themselves before the muggles could even discover them.

Before Hadrian boarded the train, he released Hedwig. He figured she would rather fly to Hogwarts than sit in her cage for hours, and he was right. She gave him a quick goodbye, and also a promise to divebomb anyone that upsets him, which was endlessly amusing to imagine, before taking off.

Hadrian smiled and turned to board the train, and soon found an empty compartment for himself. He knew his life would be extremely chaotic soon, even if he himself did nothing to cause chaos, which he would. He would take whatever time he had left to remain anonymous before the wolves descended on what they thought was an ignorant, defenseless,  _ innocent _ orphaned child.

They would learn. They would  _ all _ learn.

He closed the curtains over the windows, and locked the doors, hoping people would get the hint that he didn’t want company. He wasn’t holding his breath, however. Children could be very nosy creatures. While waiting for the train to start moving, he continued to watch people move about on the station, saying goodbye to their families. Despite himself, he felt a pang, and wondered how his parents would have sent him off to school. He loved them, but he didn’t truly know them. He was aware they could have turned out to be awful parents, though he doubted they could be worse than the Dursleys. Would it be a warm farewell, filled with tears and well wishes? Would it be cold and distant, or disappointing perhaps? Hadrian didn’t know, and couldn’t know. He wondered all the same.

Eventually the train started moving, and after a while, he got bored of watching the scenery fly by. He took one of his many books out of his trunk, and set to reading through it. Not even 15 minutes had passed, however, when there was a knock at the door. Hadrian glared at the door, before bemoaning his fate and getting up to open it. On the other side was a girl with brown bushy hair and a boy with blonde hair that looked extremely nervous.

“May I help you?” Hadrian asked politely. It seemed they weren’t looking for him specifically, at least. He had overheard several people gush about how Harry Potter was attending Hogwarts, and wouldn’t it be  _ amazing _ if they could find him on the train? Maybe they would even be friends!

Hadrian didn’t have the time or patience for people that would only hang around him because of his fame.

“We’re looking for a toad, Neville has lost his,” the girl said, gesturing to the boy apparently named Neville.

Hadrian took one look at the boy who was likely his god brother and wanted to hurt someone. It was clear from the way he held himself and his expression that his self-esteem was nonexistent, likely as a result of his ‘guardians’.

“Have you tried asking a prefect? They should be able to cast the summoning charm for him,” Hadrian asked. Both of them blinked, and the girl grimaced slightly, before smiling at him.

“Thanks, we’ll do that. My name is Hermione Granger by the way.”

“N-neville Longbottom,” said Neville, and Hadrian’s desire to hurt his family increased.

Making a quick decision, Hadrian replied, “Hadrian Potter. And once you’ve found your toad, you can come back to this compartment if you want.”

Both of their eyes widened at that, but neither reacted further, like looking towards his scar, which was actually no longer as noticeable. Apparently once the horcrux was removed, it returned to a normal and faded scar, and not a fresh looking one.

Interestingly, there was also a flash of something in Neville’s eyes, there and gone too quick for Hadrian to recognize it.

“We’ll do that, thanks again!” This time it was Neville who replied, as they both walked away in search of a prefect. Hadrian sat back down after closing the door and sighed. The girl, Hermione, seemed alright, but he’d only seen and talked to her for about a minute. Neville, on the other hand, seemed a nervous wreck. If circumstances had been different, Neville and he would have grown up together, but instead, it seems they both got stuck with terrible relatives. Though there was something in his eyes…

In almost no time at all, the two were back, Neville sporting a more happy expression.

“We found him! This is Trevor, my toad. Gran would have killed me if I lost him…” Neville’s eyes went a bit distant at that, and Hadrian’s eyes sharpened a bit. Interestingly, so did Hermione’s. Both looked at each other briefly, sizing the other up, before turning back to Neville. By unspoken agreement, both moved on from that particular landmine filled conversation.

“What are you most looking forward to at Hogwarts?” Hadrian asked. 

“Herbology,” Neville responded with a small smile. “I learned a lot from the greenhouses at the manor, and Hogwarts’ greenhouses are supposed to be some of the best in the country.”

Hadrian smiled and nodded, and filed the information away in his brain. A budding Herbology prodigy, then.

“And you, Hermione?” Hermione smiled as well, but it was off, just a little.

“I’m looking forward to everything, I think. Learning actual magic just sounds so exciting!” It sounded and looked like she wanted to say more, but cut herself off for some reason. Likely because she didn’t know the two of them well enough as of yet.

“Really? Me too,” Hadrian replied once it was clear she wasn’t continuing. “Magic seems so fascinating, and it can do so many things. Though, I fear I may limit myself somewhat by already knowing things like physics and chemistry.” Neville looked very confused by that last tidbit, while Hermione looked shocked, and then excited.

“Yes! Transfiguration I can distantly understand, but how does it really work? Does the object change into another object atomically as well? From what I’ve read, most transfigurations aren’t permanent, but to make them permanent must require enormous amounts of energy!” During her little speech, Hadrian reappraised her once more.

“This one is like how I was in school,” Hadrian thought. “Though from her earlier behavior, she likely experienced the unfortunate drawbacks of being a highly intelligent child as well.” Hadrian grimaced. He wasn’t sure how her parents reacted, but both of the people in front of him seemed to have stories far too similar to his own for comfort. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he tuned back into the passionate speech the girl was giving. She had moved on to Potions and its relation to chemistry, while Neville still looked lost.

“Muggleborn then? And it seems you were in advanced classes too?” He asked, after waiting for her to finish. She could certainly talk a lot. He wondered if she could give speeches with such fervor.

“Yes! Oh it’s so nice finding somebody else that’s similar,” she beamed. “No offense Neville,” she said, after turning towards him with a panicked expression.

“None taken, Hermione,” Neville replied with a bit of a sheepish expression. “I know I’m not that smart, and you two seem to be rather gifted intellectually.” Hadrian and Hermione shared another look, and both grimaced lightly. It seems they would both have to work on his self-esteem, assuming they remained in touch once Hogwarts started. Before they could say something, the door slammed open. Standing there was a boy with red hair and some freckles.

“Do you know where Harry Potter is?” he said after looking at all three of them somewhat closely. Hadrian was instantly put on guard. Was this boy looking for him because of his fame, or…? There was a brief pause, as the boy waited for an answer, and Neville and Hermione seemed uncomfortable and shot subtle glances at him, waiting for him to say something. Hadrian sighed internally.

“No, I haven’t seen him,” Hadrian said politely. Which was true, funnily enough. He hadn’t seen his reflection since boarding the train, and the other two haven’t said anything, so they’re not technically lying either. Hermione’s lips quirked a bit at that, and Hadrian wondered if she liked wordplay as well. Before anything else could be said, another voice came from outside their compartment.

“Ginger hair and hand me down robes? You must be a Weasley,” a rather posh, and  _ familiar _ voice said. Hadrian groaned internally. It seemed Draco had arrived, then. Thankfully, Hadrian hadn’t given out any real info, so he couldn’t be contradicted on anything. That’s assuming that Draco even recognized him from the robe shop, since he’s had a glamour removed since then. And-

Wait.  _ Weasley? _

Hadrian scrutinized the ginger haired boy. Was this one related to Molly Weasley? Probably her son, which means this attempted search for Harry Potter might not be so “innocent” after all. Trying to sink their hooks in him early, were they? Then again, the boy could be unaware of his mother’s schemes, and was just told to find him or something, and the boy didn’t question it. His thoughts were interrupted by the escalating argument, that up until this point he hadn’t really paid attention to. The boy, who’s name was apparently Ronald, was getting redder by the second. Hadrian distantly wondered if he could reach the same shades as Vernon. Draco, who Hadrian could now see, looked as calm and collected as ever, with a sneer upon his face.

“Harry Potter and I will be best friends! You’ll see!” Ron exclaimed before storming away. Hadrian almost snorted. He didn’t really  _ have _ friends, certainly not best friends. At least not human ones. Draco watched him go before looking into the compartment for the first time. Everyone was silent for a moment as he surveyed the compartment, then sneered and left.

“What was their problem?” Hermione harrumphed.

“Well, I imagine Ron wanted to be friends with Harry Potter for some reason, likely the fame aspect,” Hadrian started wryly. “The Weasleys and the Malfoys have a blood feud running for almost 300 years now, so that was likely why Malfoy, the blond one, started the argument.”

“Yeah, though thankfully they left, and neither one realized who you actually are,” Neville finished. Hermione gave both of them a look.

“Blood feud? Is this a pureblood thing that I’m supposed to magically, no pun intended, know about?” Neville looked startled at that, while Hadrian snorted.

“I know what you mean. Trying to find books related to pureblood  _ anything _ was rather difficult. I can lend you mine, if you’d like?” Having Hermione owe him a favor or two might be nice, and she seemed a shoe-in for Ravenclaw. Not that he thought he would need help on assignments or anything, but having someone actually intelligent to talk to would do wonders for his plans.

Even if he had to talk in hypotheticals.

“Would you? Thank you so much!” Hermione smiled at him again, while Neville looked between the two of them, still confused. Hadrian wondered why he looked so confused-

“Why would you need books, Hadrian? Didn’t you grow up in a pureblood home?”

Hadrian froze for a moment, before a small smile appeared on his face.

“Is that the popular theory?” Hadrian almost murmured. Neville nodded hesitantly, seeming to sense that this was a sensitive subject. Hadrian glanced between the two, thinking. He could tell them as a test, perhaps, to see if they went to someone about it. Though if that information ended up in the wrong hands, it could be somewhat irritating to deal with, especially if the public got a hold of it at this stage. He wasn’t ready to take advantage of the chaos it would cause just yet. Perhaps some hints of something wrong, instead of the full story? That way, he could deny it and say they misunderstood if it came up in public somehow before he was ready.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Hadrian said, making his eyes seem distant. “Though I think my situation was somewhat similar to yours, Neville.” Both of them stiffened at that, and Hadrian almost smiled.

Almost.

After a few seconds, Hermione cleared her throat and they moved on. For the rest of the train ride, everyone gave each other subtle glances, in Hermione’s and Neville’s case trying to reassure themselves that the others were alright, and in Hadrian’s case, to see how they were reacting to his hints. Hermione dropped hints that her own home life wasn’t fantastic either, and Hadrian could see it. She seemed very self-reliant, but also lonely. Without outright telling them the truth, this was probably the best he could hope for. He had two new allies, at the very least, and they were bonding somewhat. Trust would come later, and hopefully, he had the beginnings of his following right here.

Everyone had to start somewhere, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this seems slow, but there's just a lot of exposition and background details to get through, plus some thoughts on the society that Harry Potter tries to present. It should speed up a bit once we hit Hogwarts, though maybe not right away? Sorting comes next, obviously, and then also maybe some classes in the same chapter? Depends on how long I make the sorting lol.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter written so far.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Edited: 2/4/2021 to change Ravenclaw dorm colors from blue and silver to blue and bronze (oops)

Eventually, the train stopped, and Hadrian, Neville, and Hermione left with the rest of their peers. Hadrian was a little leery about leaving his belongings on the train unattended, but figured that the house elves in charge of moving them wouldn’t look into anyone’s things.

Now, if Dumbledore got it into his head to check his belongings, that would be a different story. Hadrian wasn’t sure if being heir to Slytherin would mean anything in the castle, but he didn’t want to rely on it. While it would be extremely helpful in gaining support among the dark families, the reputation of the house would be detrimental to him at the present time. He needed to establish himself first before he could start making waves. His musings were cut off by the loud and boisterous voice of Hagrid.

“First years! First years over here!” Hagrid was waving his arms around a bit, and Hadrian felt his mind become a bit more alert at the potential danger. Neville shrank back a bit at the large man, and Hadrian couldn’t really blame him. Hagrid, if you didn’t already know him, could be scary, especially if you have already had bad experiences with adults. He noticed a few tells on some other kids as well, like some standing up straighter, and others’ eyes becoming a bit more shadowed. He could use this, though…

“Hagrid, how are you doing?” Hadrian called out with a smile, walking towards him nonchalantly. Neville and Hermione somewhat nervously followed him, though Hadrian couldn’t tell if it was because they were suddenly the center of attention for their year, or because Hagrid started focusing on them.

“Hadrian! Wonderful to see you again! How was the rest of your summer?” Hagrid beamed back at him. Hadrian was focusing mostly on Hagrid, though he did note that the kids closest to him were relaxing the more Hagrid talked and calmed down from waving his arms around.

“I spent most of it trying to prepare,” Hadrian answered wryly, which wasn’t a lie. Preparing himself mentally to be thrust into a spotlight, not to mention his correspondence with Gringotts and trying to learn all that he could about magic and his titles, was rather taxing. He liked functioning better in a more behind the scenes manner, though it seemed that his role in the magical world would be a showman of sorts instead. Which meant that he needed some people he trusted to operate in the shadows for him, since his every move was likely to be scrutinized by multiple parties.

Establishing himself here, before any house prejudice got involved, was simply the best move.

“Wonderful! Come along now, everyone. You get to cross the Black Lake and then be sorted into your house. No more than four to a boat now!” Hagrid gestured them along, and everyone followed like little ducklings. Hadrian shared a boat with Hermione, Neville, and another boy. He didn’t seem inclined to talk, and was also observing all three of them subtly. Hadrian ignored him for the most part, and waited for Hogwarts to truly come into view. The air felt ripe with the magic in the air, and Hadrian almost felt like something was calling out to him…

Then he saw the castle, and it was like something clicked into place in his very soul. He felt, for the first time he could remember, truly at peace. It was, for lack of a better word, magical. Tearing his eyes away from the castle, he noticed the awestruck looks on the faces of the rest of his year mates. They steadily approached the shore, and within no time at all, were arriving at the gates of the castle. Waiting for them there was a woman with her hair pulled into a bun and a neutral yet stern expression on her face. She was scanning the students with her eyes, stopping on a few, including Hadrian and Neville, before looking to Hagrid.

“The first years, Professor Mcgonagall,” Hagrid said, respect coloring his tone. Hadrian perked up slightly at that. Hagrid respected Dumbledore as well, so this might be someone to watch, though he could just be leaping at shadows. Mcgonagall merely nodded and looked back over them once more.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” began McGonagall. “The start-of-term feast will begin shortly, but before that happens you will be sorted into one of four houses. Those houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. The people in those houses will become your close friends, rivals, and perhaps even family. You will spend lots of time with them, whether that be in class or in your shared common room.

“Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you walk within these walls, your successes will earn house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a cause for celebration. I hope each of you will become a credit to whichever house you are sorted into, and Hogwarts as a whole.”

It was an impressive speech, backed up by the fact that Mcgonagall looked like a very no-nonsense and stern type of person. Hadrian wasn’t sure if Mcgonagall actually believed these words wholeheartedly though, so he would remain wary. Slytherins remained mostly ostracized from the school, while Gryffindors were the “best house”. Some parts of that speech were a nice sentiment, but ultimately fell short in the face of reality.

“The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” With that, Mcgonagall swept her gaze over the crowded students once more, gazing at a few in particular, like Ron. Who had a smudge of dirt on his nose. Keeping his face blank of the smirk that wanted to come forth, he waited patiently, while his peers conversed amongst themselves. Finally, Mcgonagall led them inside the Great Hall.

There were four long tables, one for each house. Many students sat at these benches, staring at the incoming first years. Furthest away from them sat the professors and their table. Hearing some gasps, Hadrian looked around before noticing that many of his year mates were looking up. Upon doing the same, Hadrian noticed that the ceiling looked like a mostly clear starry sky, though there were a few clouds. Interestingly, lightning seemed to arc between the clouds at points, with the accompanying thunder, though the sounds were quite muted. Hadrian spied Hermione looking to the ceiling in awe and contemplation both, probably wondering at the electrical storm above their heads.

Once everyone was in the hall, Mcgonagall had them wait at one end, while she walked towards the staff table, which had quite a colorful selection of people among them. Once there, she picked up a roll of parchment and turned back to look at them. Only, instead of speaking, the hat next to her started speaking. All of the first years, Hadrian included, startled and turned to the apparently talking hat as it started singing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Once the song was over, Hadrian snorted to himself. It almost sounded like a nursery rhyme, and was undoubtedly to make them relax before the sorting. That hat was likely more intelligent than most of the people in this room, and Hadrian was looking forward to their conversation. At least, he assumed he would be able to talk to the hat. He supposed he would find out soon, as Mcgonagall started speaking once more.

“Once I call your name, you will come forward to be sorted.

Hannah Abbott!”

A girl with blonde pigtails nervously made her way towards the front and sat down on the stool. The hat was then placed on her head, and the hall waited. Less than 10 seconds later, the hat made its proclamation.

“Hufflepuff!” it roared out. The badgers started madly clapping, while the other tables clapped with varying enthusiasm. Mcgonagall called out another name.

“Terry Boot!”

And on it went. Hadrian didn’t particularly care for his year mates yet, as he hadn’t met or formed an opinion of many of them. He did, however, pay attention to the reactions of the tables as people were sorted. Gryffindors cheered the loudest whenever the hat screamed out Gryffindor, which was expected. The Hufflepuffs were no less devoted when they got an incoming student. Ravenclaw and Slytherin were a bit more subdued in their celebration, but still pleased whenever new students came their way. The house rivalry was already in full swing, unfortunately, as Slytherin and Gryffindor reactions to the other house getting students could be described as chilly at best. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff looked uncomfortable, but that was likely due to the tension between the opposing houses, which was actually quite impressive since their tables were across the room from each other.

The professors were much harder to read, especially from this distance, but Dumbledore might as well have been a neon sign. He clapped and smiled for Gryffindors, clapped and smiled slightly less brightly for the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and clapped and almost grimaced for the Slytherins. Hadrian huffed under his breath at this. Could the man be more obvious in his distaste? He was supposed to be impartial, even though some (mostly Slytherins themselves) in this room already knew he wasn’t. He could at least act better!

The first name called that he actually cared about was Hermione’s. She seemed nervous, but Hadrian thought that was more because she had to walk up there and be the center of attention, rather than the sorting itself. Both himself and Neville gave her smiles of reassurance, though Neville’s came out more like a grimace, likely due to nerves about his own approaching sorting. Hermione seemed to brace herself, and walked forward. Hadrian was impressed despite himself. She didn’t falter once, or run like some of the others had done. She walked calmly, with an almost blank look on her face, and he saw several older students watch her with interest, particularly the Slytherins. Whether that be due to her poise or name remained to be seen, however. She seated herself on the stool carefully, and the Hat was placed atop her head. She took over a minute, which was the longest sorting yet, before the Hat screamed out its answer.

“Ravenclaw!”

Hadrian clapped for her and actually meant it this time. She was very much a Ravenclaw, though he wondered what houses the hat was debilitating between. Unless they were just having a conversation? Hermione smiled slightly as she walked towards her new table and sat down. She then turned towards Hadrian and Neville and her smile grew a little wider. They both smiled back at her, and returned to waiting. After a few more names, the Hat called out another name Hadrian actually cared about.

“Neville Longbottom!” Seeing that Neville was very nervous, Hadrian reached out and grasped his arm.

“You’ve got this Neville. Hermione and I will be your friends no matter where you go.” Hadrian watched as his words took effect, and Neville stood a little taller. He nodded before moving forward. He sat down on the stool and the Hat was placed over his head. Like Hermione’s sorting, Neville’s took around a minute.

“Hufflepuff!” The Hat roared out. Neville looked relieved, and handed the Hat back to Mcgonagall before moving towards the badgers. Hadrian himself was relieved. He had a feeling Neville was pressured to be in Gryffindor, likely by his terrible family. Based on what Hadrian had heard so far, it would not have been a good fit for quiet and nervous Neville. The Gryffindors were just as likely to tear down his self-esteem and image than raise it up. Hufflepuff would almost certainly not have that problem. Time would tell if he was wrong, but Hadrian thought Neville would do very well with the Puffs.

Next on his list of people that he recognized was Draco Malfoy. When his name was called, he swaggered up to the hat, though Hadrian thought it looked slightly off. The Hat had barely touched his head before screaming out Slytherin, however, and Draco looked almost… proud? And relieved. Perhaps he had familial pressures as well. Some of the other kids, specifically in Gryffindor looked like they were about to riot when his name was called, and looked even more upset when it was an instant Slytherin sorting. _That_ was an explosion waiting to happen, though who would come out on top remained to be seen.

The name Theodore Nott didn’t mean anything to him, but the boy who walked up to be sorted did. He was the boy that he, Hermione, and Neville shared a boat with earlier. Hadrian also noticed that the Slytherins were a bit more interested in this one. Aside from possible death eater connections, he wasn’t quite sure why the Slytherins would be interested. Something to follow up on, perhaps.

His musings were interrupted when Theo went to Ravenclaw, which the Slytherins did _not_ look happy about. Theo had a blank of a face as ever, and sat down close to Hermione.

Hadrian braced himself. They were about to call his name, and his anonymity was about to end.

“Hadrian Potter!”

“Did she just say Hadrian Potter?”

“Wait, wasn’t his name Harry?”  
“Maybe it’s a nickname!”

“The Boy-Who-Lived!”

He almost grimaced at the last one, but caught himself in time, thankfully. He walked towards the Hat with as calm of an expression as he could force. Being the focus of this much attention at once was a new experience for him, and he hopefully could start off on the right foot and make a good impression. He would have to get used to it, since he was a celebrity in the magical world. Plus, having witnesses to events might actually be a good thing in certain situations. He sat down on the stool and the Hat was lowered over his head.

“You’ve got quite a crowded mind, you know.” Hadrian stiffened slightly in his seat. He had been expecting that Hat to talk in his mind, but actually experiencing it was quite a shock. It was different from talking to Hedwig as well. Hedwig, or rather his familiar bond, was only one part of his mind. The Hat, however, seemed to be trying to take up a lot of it. Though that may just be the Hat trying to analyze him and see where he would fit best, Hadrian still thought it rather invasive.

“Do calm down. I can’t share what I see in your mind with anyone, just so you’re aware.” Hadrian relaxed at this, and started talking back to the Hat.

“Well that’s nice to know. The game would be up far too soon if somebody like Dumbledore could get into my head through you,” Hadrian thought. The hat guffawed in his head, which felt exceedingly odd.

“Yes, I see you’ve run into trouble due to the Headmaster recently. Good luck to you child, you’re going to need it.” Hadrian bristled slightly at that. It was likely true, but he didn’t like being reminded of what a vulnerable position he would be in for the foreseeable future.

“Now, let’s see where you fit, hmmm? Gryffindor I can eliminate immediately. You generally don’t run headfirst into danger, and prefer to have many plans in place if you do. Your bravery and courage are conditional on the situation, though you are quite determined. You would likely traumatize the Gryffindors within a week. Or have an army.”

Hadrian smirked at this. In a vacuum, Hadrian rather thought any child could fit any of the houses. The Sorting was more based on where they fit _best,_ along with what the perception of the house was at the time. Hadrian _could_ be brave, _could_ be a good little Gryffindor, but to do so would mean burying parts of himself to never again see the light.

And Hadrian has had quite enough of that already, thank you.

“Hufflepuff is out as well. You are hard-working and patient, but your loyalty is very conditional, and you don’t deal with traitors well. You’re not modest, and will likely take justice into your own hands before your Hogwarts schooling is over. You believe fairness to be an ideal, and something to strive for, certainly, but ultimately unreachable,” The Hat continued.

Hadrian couldn’t really argue. The legality of something had never concerned him, only whether he got caught and had excuses in hand to get out of it. And justice? One of his two remaining fathers was in the worst prison in the world for a crime he didn’t commit. The world _wasn’t_ fair, but Hadrian would do all in his power to stack the deck in his favor, morals be damned.

“Ravenclaw is a good fit, as you fit all the qualities except for possibly acceptance. Time will tell in your case, but you embody learning, creativity, and wit particularly well. You certainly plan ahead, don’t you?”

Hadrian agreed, and he had already figured it would come down to Ravenclaw and Slytherin for him. The Hat being able to see his plans and musings about magical society was almost concerning, but the Hat couldn’t share with others what was in his mind. 

“Slytherin on the other hand, my this is tricky. Due to your unfortunate upbringing, you embody many of the qualities Slytherins pride themselves on. Cunning comes naturally to you, as does resourcefulness. You’re certainly prideful, and your self preservation was honed over childhood. Your ambitions are also noteworthy. Trying to save the magical world from itself, are we? You remind me of another child I sorted, so very long ago…”

Hadrian waited while the Hat muttered to itself. He thought he knew what the best house would be for him _ideally,_ but due to current circumstances… 

“I see you have a preference, and I can’t say I disagree. You would do the best, _be_ the best in Slytherin, but that poses more danger to you and your goals. Additionally, with how the houses are now, you’re more likely to accomplish your goals if you are _not_ a Slytherin, ironically enough.”

“Thank you for the insight, Mr. Hat,” Hadrian murmured.

“Yes, yes. I look forward to seeing what you do in Ravenclaw!”

The last word was shouted out for the hall to hear, and the Hat was removed from his head. Blinking at the sudden light, Hadrian noted that he had been the longest sorting so far. The Hall was rather quiet, and was staring at him in some kind of shock. Likely because he wasn’t a golden Gryffindor like they were expecting. Unable to help himself, Hadrian raised an eyebrow in mocking. He heard a few snorts in the hall, before cheering erupted from the Ravenclaw table, and grumbles started coming from the Gryffindor table. The other two were mostly ambivalent, though the Slytherins were scrutinizing him. He wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t. The Slytherins would probably be watching his every move for the next seven years.

He walked towards Hermione and sat down next to her, with Theodore on his other side. Hadrian absently wondered if Theodore planned this in some way. Hermione quickly congratulated him, and started gushing about how they were together and would learn so much at Hogwarts. He smiled politely and nodded at her new enthusiasm. Hermione was likely just happy that she knew someone going into classes that could keep up with her and maybe be her friend. Theodore was watching them out of the corner of his eye, but hadn’t really said anything yet. He looked almost wary of Hermione, actually, which was very amusing.

Ron went to Gryffindor, as Hadrian had expected, and seemed to be both happy and not. Hadrian didn’t bother with wondering why, too busy being pleased he wasn’t sharing a house with the ginger. After the last student, a Blaise Zabini was sorted, Dumbledore stood and swept his eyes across the students and gestured grandly.

“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

Hadrian thought the old man senile, and he noticed that Hermione looked exceedingly confused, while Theodore was badly containing a sneer. After Dumbledore’s pronouncement, food appeared on the table, ranging from many different kinds of meat, like beef and chicken, to an assortment of vegetables, like peas and carrots. There were a few desserts sprinkled throughout as well, and Hadrian quickly dug in. Nobody talked very much for the first few minutes, too busy either eating or serving themselves, but eventually conversations started up among the tables. Hadrian decided it was high time to introduce himself to the boy sitting next to him, and hopefully gain an ally in the boy’s dorms.

“Hello, my name is Hadrian Potter, heir to House Potter and Black,” Hadrian started, and wasn’t it interesting the reactions that those around him had to the latter house? Theodore raised an eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise comment on the houses.  
“Theodore Nott, heir to House Nott, please call me Theo,” Theo said.

“Hadrian then,” Hadrian replied. Hermione watched on, seeming bemused at the formal speech, but didn’t say anything. 

“Do you happen to know why a professor is glaring at you already?” Theo asked in a low voice, taking a sip from his goblet to somewhat conceal the question. Hadrian blinked, and subtly looked towards the staff table, pretending to look for another dish to load his plate with. Many of the professors were either looking over the students or focused on eating, but there were two that were not. The first was a black haired man glaring at him, though Hadrian thought it lacked any real heat. The second was Quirrell, who was watching him with distaste, while trying to pretend he wasn’t. Hadrian assumed Theo was referring to the black haired man, and shook his head.

“I’ve never seen him before in my life,” Hadrian replied slowly. Which was entirely false. Hadrian didn’t have many memories of him, but he could recognize the man all the same.

This was Professor Severus Snape. His godfather. Who was likely potioned or spelled against him.

“That’s Professor Snape,” Theo confirmed. “I think he went to school with your parents, so maybe that’s why he has it out for you?” Hermione, who had been listening in with a pensive and worried look on her face, chimed in.

“That’s not very fair. I don’t know what your parents were like, Hadrian, but blaming an innocent child for their parents’ mistakes is wrong.” Theo looked at her in surprise and some other emotion, before blanking his face once more.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. As you likely heard earlier, I’m Theodore Nott.” Hermione looked at him consideringly for a moment, before replying.

“My name is Hermione Granger,” Hermione replied carefully. Something flashed in Theo’s eyes.

“I don’t recognize that name,” Theo blankly said.

“And will that be a problem, Heir Nott?” Hermione replied coolly. Hadrian was impressed with her. She had learned pureblood customs quickly, and knew she would be looked down on for being a muggleborn. Hermione seemed like the type of person to take that as a challenge, and Hadrian looked forward to the drama that it would cause the pureblood circles at the school.

“Not at all, Miss Granger,” Theo said with a smirk. He evidently had come to the same conclusion, and Hadrian pondered the situation. Theo seemed to possess a brain of his own, and didn’t agree with his family following the dark lord. Whether that be because he had lost much of his family due to the dark lord’s whims, or didn’t actually believe in the cause, Hadrian had to find out. He could also just be trying to gain an ally, but Hadrian didn’t think this was the case. Someone like Theo had a lot to lose by befriending a muggleborn, and not a lot to gain. His musings were interrupted by the food disappearing, signifying the end of the feast. Dumbledore stood once more, and Hadrian noted his chair looked rather like a golden throne.

“Just a few preterm announcements before I send you off. The Forbidden Forest is just that: forbidden. First years would do well to remember this, as would a few of our upper years,” Dumbledore started, with his eyes sweeping towards the Gryffindor table.

“Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has also asked me to remind you that magic is not to be used between classes in the corridors. The second week of the term is when Quidditch trials are held. If you are at all interested, please get in touch with Madam Hooch. First years will meet her for their mandatory flying class, though I should note that first years are not allowed on their house team. Finally, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is also forbidden, unless you wish to die a painful death.”

Low murmuring sounded throughout the hall at this, and Hadrian blinked in shock. That was quite possibly the most idiotic thing he could have said to a school full of curious children. Merlin, several of them, Gryffindors mostly, would see it as a _challenge._ His incredulous gaze swept over Theo and Hermione, and he was pleased to note that both had obviously reached the same conclusions, and were looking at the headmaster in outright disbelief.

Sure, warning them of an off limits area of the castle was all well and good, but he could have said literally _anything else._ This was guaranteed to get attention, and besides, they were wizards and witches, were they not? Hadrian was sure there was some magic the staff could use to just block the area entirely. The expressions of the staff suggested that they had not done such a thing, since many of them had disapproval on their faces, though whether that was directed at the headmaster or the conversing students, Hadrian couldn’t tell.

“And with that, the Welcome Feast is over! Students, please follow your house prefects to your new dormitories,” Dumbledore said, ignoring the muttering and whispering regarding his previous announcement. Several students with a gold and gleaming badge with the letter “P” on them attached to their robes stood, and started directing students out of the Great Hall. Hadrian followed his house prefect, absently noting that they were pointing out key places for the new Ravenclaws. Things like classrooms, the library, and various shortcuts, which Hadrian planned to have mapped out anyway. The castle was absolutely massive, and Hadrian had no doubt that first years often got lost within the first few weeks. Why they didn’t just hand out a map or something, Hadrian couldn’t understand. Eventually, they arrived at a blue door with a knocker in the shape of an eagle.

“We don’t have a password to enter the common rooms, per se,” The prefect said. “Instead, you must answer a riddle correctly to enter the Ravenclaw dorms.” Hadrian thought it was a rather poor security system. Such a thing assumed that the other houses wouldn’t be able to answer the riddle, which was ridiculous. Every intelligent person didn’t end up in Ravenclaw, after all. Slytherins especially would likely be the first to be able to solve the riddle, since many were either involved in politics, grew up in a pureblood home, or both. Word play and subtle insults would come naturally to many of them, which would help them look for hidden meanings and solve a riddle. Before he could further think on the truly awful system that was apparently the security for their dorms, the knocker finally spoke its riddle.

“I have cities, but no houses. I have mountains, but no trees. I have water, but no fish. What am I?” Hadrian considered for a moment, coming to the answer right as Hermione spoke it aloud.

“A map,” she answered confidently. Instead of responding, the door merely swung open to admit them. The Ravenclaw common room had a high ceiling that was reminiscent of a starry sky, and various windows to look over the grounds. Everything in the room was blue or had a blue tint, and though Hadrian could see very little bronze, it was still there in little things like linings or frills. An entire wall was covered in book shelves, and Hadrian really wanted to go see it, even though the books there would be filled with “school appropriate” subjects. The first years were led into the middle of the common room, and a small man was waiting for them there. He was around the same height as the goblins, actually, though didn’t particularly look like them. He was much more jovial for one, though Hadrian got the sense the man could be truly vicious when crossed.

“Hello everyone and welcome to Ravenclaw! I am Professor Filius Flitwick, and I am both your Head of House as well as your Charms professor. I would like to extend a warm welcome to all our new first years, and an equally warm welcome to our returning students. I do hope you enjoy your time in Hogwarts and Ravenclaw both.

“There is much I can say here tonight, but I will keep it brief, since I see some of you are quite tired already. Here in Ravenclaw, we pride ourselves on our intellect, creativity and originality. I would prefer that you keep your grades up, though I understand that sometimes genius shows in unconventional forms, and some of you may have trouble with the work for some reason. If this is the case, come to me and I can potentially arrange something for you, though I am limited in what I can do for other classes. If you just don’t understand something and need help, a sign up sheet will be posted on the notice board for tutors and study groups both.

“You are set to be two to a room, divided by gender of course. Keep your rooms tidy please, and respect your roommate and their right to privacy and their own belongings. Your roommate will only change in extreme circumstances, so I highly advise you to work with your roommate, and not against them. I see some of you are already interested in the bookcases behind me as well. You are welcome to read them at any time, though I will warn you that the books are charmed to remain in the tower at all times, and I will know who’s dorm they are in if they are removed to private rooms.

“I will meet with each incoming first year within the first two weeks to see how you are all adjusting, and provide any assistance that I can. I will provide your timetables to you tomorrow at breakfast, and I highly suggest you familiarize yourself with the castle tomorrow as well, when we won’t be holding classes. The first few days the professors have all agreed to excuse some tardiness for you first years, but that will not last.

“I think that is all from me today, if you have any more questions you can ask a prefect or come see me in my office. Now, off to bed!”

Following his peers up to his rooms, he was pleasantly surprised he shared a room with Theo. Theo also looked somewhat relieved, though Hadrian couldn’t begin to guess why. Seeing as they were both tired already, they bid each other a good night and quickly crawled into their beds. Hadrian’s mind whirled with plans and ideas, before finally falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a mistake in a previous endnote. Arcturus Black, Sirius’ grandfather and the Lord Black, died in 1991, which is when Harry starts Hogwarts, in canon. That is not the case in this story, though the actual date itself is unimportant. He died before Sirius was thrown in Azkaban (because I don’t care how estranged Sirius was from the family, the heir to his house running away and later being thrown into Azkaban without a trial? There is no possible way Arcturus didn’t investigate the former and raise hell for the latter should he have been alive). This will also play an important role in a future subplot(s?), which should be pretty obvious once certain characters' actions come to light (think of who else is alive still within the Black family). Keep in mind that this is not canon, and is essentially a different version of the OG Harry Potter universe. Harry will not be the only one changed so drastically. The erroneous endnote has been altered with this new information as well.  
> Also I’m not J.K Rowling, and make no money off of this. Certain sections of this chapter have been lifted from the books, (with minor alterations, because I generally dislike just copy pasting something) but I make no claim to them.  
> Also also, I realized like 2/3's of the way through the chapter that I didn't want this chapter to be astronomically long, so sorry if the ending seems a bit abrupt/less wordy than the beginning. Rest assured that Hadrian will actually interact with his peers over the coming chapters, as well as comment on things like the staff, which was also moved to a future chapter. With how observant this Harry is supposed to be/has been so far, would you expect anything less?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specific warnings:  
> Discussions about child abuse/reflecting on consequences of it  
> Talk of bad family situations

Hadrian woke up and smiled to himself in the privacy of his curtained bed. He still had nightmares, but not nearly as often. He could sometimes even go the whole night without one now. Most of that probably had to do with horcrux being removed. He had noticed that he was generally calmer, had an easier time focusing or meditating, and his magic felt freer. It was odd, he had never noticed how weighed down his magic felt until he had the horcrux removed.

In the interest of being courteous to Theo, however, he would try to learn some silencing spells as soon as possible. Some of his nightmares could be...intense, and though he was mostly conditioned to be silent due to the Dursleys, Theo was much closer and likely to hear even the smallest of noises. He didn’t really want to deal with Theo’s pity, or compassion, or… whatever came up should Theo hear him during a nightmare.

Casting a quick  _ tempus, _ (reading ahead works  _ wonders) _ Hadrian saw that it was only 5:30. Cursing the Dursleys and their  _ routine _ in his head, Hadrian got up to shower. He was unsurprised to see Theo still asleep, though his breathing changed once Hadrian started moving around the room. A light sleeper, perhaps? Hadrian tried to ignore the potential signs of  _ yet another _ child showing signs of abuse or neglect. Not that his relatives were ever so nice as to let him sleep, but whenever they moved around upstairs, he was instantly wide awake. He could easily recognize Theo’s hyperawareness because he was used to such a thing himself. He was the same at dinner, actually, now that Hadrian thought about it. He had  _ seemed _ relaxed, but his shoulders were held ever so slightly tense, and noises from behind him made him tense further before he deliberately relaxed himself.

Merlin, it was like looking out over the train station all over again. Blank faces, stiff shoulders, shadowed eyes, concealing almost  _ everything _ about yourself to survive. The Great Hall would provide a better overview of the situation than the train station, so he had observed the hall over dinner last night as casually and carefully as he could. Despite being stared at by much of the student populace, it was surprisingly easy to go unnoticed in his observations. Only a few had noticed, and some met his gaze with a raised eyebrow, some with disdain. Overall, what he had expected, since most of the disdain came from upper years, those either already too set in their ways or putting up a front for onlookers.

His year was certainly interesting, however. There were  _ so many heirs. _ Sure, many of them were in Slytherin, but he and Theo were some examples of those who were not. Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom were others, who had both gone to Hufflepuff. Besides the obvious political implications, his year was also just…  _ different, _ somehow. They are far more lively, seem to reach  _ forward, _ not stuck in the past or present. As arrogant and self-serving as it may be, he thinks it has something to do with him. His generation grew up knowing that he, Hadrian Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, defeater of the Dark Lord Voldemort and all that rubbish, would be part of them. He is their hope, their shining example of a better future. He desperately needs to keep that spark alive. The core of his future power base is right in front of him, he just knows it. His contemplations came to an end as he exited the shower, when the voice of his familiar entered his mind.

“Could you perhaps take a break from your world domination plans to come see me?” Hedwig trilled in his mind. Hadrian snorted in the privacy of the bathroom. It was phrased as a request, but was more of a demand for his attention.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” he shot back, cheekily. Hedwig sent back an image of herself diving at his head. “Let’s hope I don’t get lost in the gargantuan castle that I don’t know the layout of, yes?” Hadrian thought to her, rolling his eyes. “I’ll come see you after breakfast, that way I can get you something as well.” When Hedwig trilled in response, Hadrian sighed. He doubted the Great Hall was open for breakfast this early, so he entered his common room to read and not disturb his “sleeping” roommate. Theo didn’t strike him as the type of person to be late for anything, so he would wait for him to actually wake up.

* * *

About an hour later, he looked up from his reading of  _ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3,  _ (so he liked reading ahead, sue him) to watch Theo enter the common room. He looked around a bit with a blank face, before spotting Hadrian sitting at a table. Hadrian raised a brow as Theo came over and sat across from him. Since Theo seemed content to say nothing, Hadrian broke the silence.

“Do you know what time breakfast starts?” he questioned. Theo made a smalling humming sound.

“I think it starts at seven, so in a couple of minutes,” Theo muttered, still not looking totally awake. Hadrian wondered if it was an act.

“Care to walk with me?” Hadrian said, starting to put away his book and various notes. Theo watched him, seeming amused.

“Sure, Hadrian,” Theo said, also standing. Together, they made their way out of the common room, and started descending Ravenclaw Tower. Neither of them spoke, which Hadrian was totally fine with. Perhaps he could make small talk in an effort to better establish himself with Theo, but based on what he’d seen from him so far, it was more likely he would push him away by being super social.

Besides, Hadrian rather liked silence. A shame there would probably be very little of it for the foreseeable future.

They took the same route from last night, and Hadrian made note to explore some of the passageways that hadn’t been pointed out by the prefect.

Merlin, he really needed a map of the place. Maybe… maybe he could ask the house elves? He doubted they would report it or anything, the request wasn’t suspicious enough. Well, to them at least. He would have to find them though…

Hadrian’s thoughts refocused when they neared the entrance to the Great Hall. They were very early, only a few minutes after it supposedly opened, so he wasn’t expecting very many people. Which was probably a good thing. It gave him more time for the inevitable confrontations with his peers, the staff, and Dumbledore. Or people could just stare at him like last night.

Hadrian and Theo entered the Great Hall to see a grand total of three people: Professor Snape, Professor Mcgonagall, and Professor Flitwick. Hadrian wondered if they were always this early, or if it was just because it was the first day of the year. They were sitting up at the Head Table, seeming to talk amongst themselves. Hadrian and Theo sat at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, almost exactly where they had sat last night. He was too far away to tell, but Hadrian thought both Snape’s and Mcgonagall’s heads tilted towards him somewhat. Keeping a wary eye on their professors, he turned most of his attention towards Theo. Who was staring at him, again.   
“Am I just that interesting, or?” Hadrian commented with a raised eyebrow.   
“You’re not like I expected you to be,” Theo said flatly.

“I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Hadrian said with a fake smile and a hand over his heart. Theo continued staring at him, looking at him like he was a puzzle, something to solve. “Good luck Theo,” Hadrian thought wryly. “You’re going to need it.” Before Theo could make another comment, they were interrupted by a familiar head of brown, bushy hair.

“Hadrian! Theo! I see you’re early risers as well,” Hermione beamed.

“That doesn’t make us morning people,” Theo deadpanned, squinting at Hermione as if she was the sun and would blind him if he stared at her outright. Hadrian coughed to hide his amusement as Hermione pouted, before huffing and sitting down.

“I’m not really either, I’m just so excited for school to start! I was thinking, since we have this whole day to ourselves, we could explore the castle. You know, make sure we don’t get lost, and end up late to class or something.” Hermione fired out all in one breath. Theo blinked at her slowly, while Hadrian hid his amusement by looking around for food. The girl definitely had some lungs, he could give her that. Before Theo could say much of anything, still trying to process, Hadrian agreed.

“Yes, I was planning on doing that today anyway. Well, and reviewing for tomorrow as well,” Hadrian said. He was already going to get attention for being the Boy-Who-Lived, may as well get attention on his own merits by being a prodigy as well.

“Oh, could I join you in that as well?” Hermione said. She couldn’t quite hide the hope in her eyes, though whether that was because of her hoping she had made a friend, or studying with somebody who wasn’t a total idiot, Hadrian didn’t know.

“Sure,” Hadrian said absently, looking for a drink that wasn’t pumpkin juice. He had tried it last night and it had almost made him throw up. Much too sweet.

“I think I’ll join you two today as well,” Theo said smoothly. Hadrian glanced back at him briefly before focusing on eating. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could get out into the castle properly. Theo spoke out into the silence after a couple of minutes.

“Incoming,” he breathed out softly. Hadrian blinked, but made no other motion that he had heard. Hermione stiffened slightly, but also showed no other signs. Good for her.

“And what do we have here? A  _ muggleborn, _ a traitor, and a liar,” a voice rang out. Hadrian groaned internally, because once again, Draco bloody Malfoy was making a mess. Was it too much to ask that he could not have this confrontation  _ now? _

Slowly Hadrian turned in his seat to look at Draco. In doing so, he quickly cast his eyes around to see who was paying attention, subtly or not. Then viciously cursed internally. The Great Hall had filled up quite a bit recently, and to make matters worse, none of the professors had an inkling of what was happening. Draco only said muggleborn instead of mudblood because of this rather public confrontation, not wanting it to get back to the professors either. Hadrian had to hand it to him, aside from being  _ very public, _ which was more of a personal thing really, Draco did pick a good spot for this. Well, assuming that he “won” this little spat.

Which he wouldn’t. Pity.

“Heir Malfoy,  _ what _ a pleasure,” Hadrian said with a smile that only showed a bit of teeth. Before Draco could so much as bristle in indignation, Hadrian continued. “But I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to. Care to enlighten me?” Hadrian said in a dismissive tone that implied he truly couldn't care less what this was about. Draco’s face started turning a dull red, which Hadrian thought was rather poor form. He hadn’t even begun to verbally eviscerate the boy, and he was already showing his emotions on his sleeve?

“Of course you do,  _ Rose Evans. _ Taking some pride in your muddied heritage, are we?” There were some subtle inhales heard from around them, but Hadrian didn’t pay much attention to that. He felt ice creeping up his spine again, and everything  _ sharpened. _ He knew there was no outward tell, he was far too good for that, but the magically sensitive in the onlookers certainly felt it.

Hadrian smiled.

“You mean my mother, who sacrificed herself to destroy the Dark Lord?” Hadrian questioned in a light and airy tone of voice. Now it was the Slytherins who tensed and gasped. Subtly, of course. Hadrian continued staring into the eyes of Draco, who grew pale and flinched at the mention of Voldemort. “Why yes, I’m quite proud of her. But then, you would know all about taking pride in one’s parent, wouldn’t you, Draco? How  _ is _ daddy dearest?” By this point Draco was so pale you could almost see the blood vessels under his skin. A large part of him, the part cultivated in the cruelty of Dursleys, reveled in that.

_ “Dig the knife deeper,” it whispered. _

With some difficulty, he pulled his magic back, let the ice sink into him once more. His smile became more human, but still entirely fake.

“Was there anything else?” he said in a pleasant tone of voice that implied there had better not be anything else. Draco shook his head and staggered off, not saying another word. There was silence for a few moments, before conversations warily started back up around him. All the while, Hermione and Theo just looked at him. Hermione with gratitude and a bit of awe, and Theo…

Well, Hadrian wasn’t certain what to make of Theo’s expression. There was a bit of fear, awe, pride, and some other thing Hadrian couldn’t quantify. He had never seen it before in his life, but he knew he had nothing else to fear from Theo.

“Well,” Hadrian said brightly, somewhat startling those around him that had witnessed the confrontation. “That was exciting!” It broke the moment, as several people around them snorted, and Hermione and Theo both smirked slightly. “Shall we be off?” Hadrian doubted they would want to stick around after that.   
“We should probably grab our time tables, that way we can see what routes to take between classes,” Hermione said.

“An excellent idea, Hermione,” Hadrian said grandly. Hermione smiled and Theo rolled his eyes as they stood and approached Professor Flitwick for their time tables. Quirrell and Dumbledore were now at the Head Table, and watched their approach in what they likely thought was subtle.

“Hello Professor Flitwick,” Hermione began. “Could we have our time tables now? We’re finished eating, and we wanted to explore the castle a bit. We thought we could find our classrooms as well while we do,” Hermione finished with a charming, and  _ disarming, _ smile. Hadrian kept the pleasant smile on his face, but Hermione continued to impress. Though  _ why _ she had these skills was a bit of a mood killer, and a grim reminder of all that he needed to fix. Still, if they could cultivate different masks for the professors, that would be ideal. Hermione could be the “trustworthy” one of the group, the one everyone thought would never break rules. Alibis were important after all.

Flitwick nodded at them, with a pleased expression on his face, and handed them their time tables, after which they took their leave. As soon as they left the Great Hall, Theo turned toward him with a sly smile.

“Trouble follows you everywhere doesn’t it, Hadrian? A confrontation with Malfoy, and not even a full day has passed? Why did he even go after you like that? And what was that about your mother?” Hadrian snorted.

“He’s being dramatic, seems to run in the family from what I’ve heard. We had met at Madam Malkins when we were both getting school robes. I hadn’t wanted to be swarmed at Diagon Alley anymore than I already had been when I entered, so I gave him a fake name, Rose Evans. Rose is my middle name, and Evans is my mother’s maiden name. After that, he was a bit standoffish, which I now realize was him believing me to be a muggleborn and not wanting to interact with me. Which seems stupid, because  _ he _ was the one that started the conversation!” Hadrian huffed.

“He also saw you on the train, sharing a compartment with Neville and I,” Hermione added. “Not that he realized who you truly were at the time either. Maybe he’s mad because you didn’t say anything on the train?” Hadrian didn’t think that was quite it, and Theo looked like he didn’t either, but he quickly moved on.

“As for my mother?” Hadrian let out an exasperated sigh. “I have no idea why people thought  _ I, _ an actual baby who could do nothing but eat and poop and cry, defeated the Dark Lord. It’s far more likely that my mother did something, probably regarding her willing sacrifice for me,” Hadrian said thoughtfully. There was silence for a moment, but if it was out of surprise or respect for the dead, Hadrian didn’t know.

“What about you Theo? That ‘traitor’ bit? Is it because you aren’t in Slytherin, or?” Hadrian changed the subject. Theo’s eyes darkened a bit.

“That’s a large part of it, yes. As for the rest? All I can say is I made a choice that they didn’t agree with.” Theo said while looking directly at him. Hadrian thought  _ he _ was that choice, and felt pleased… and concerned.

He hoped he would prove worthy of Theo’s faith.

They explored the castle, finding all of their classrooms, and the quickest paths between them. Along the way they passed by other groups of students, either doing the same thing, or catching up after a summer apart. The gossip was rather interesting. Apparently Quirrell’s obviously fake stutter was a new thing, and he had been the Muggle Studies professor up until this year.

Oh, and Professor Snape was really angry with that. Supposedly, he had been trying to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for years, and Quirrell got it, which had to be aggravating. Though, it seemed that there was a new professor for DADA every year, and that was almost certainly not a coincidence. When he mentioned it, Theo scoffed.

“The position is apparently cursed. No teacher has lasted a full year as the DADA professor since the mid 40s. My grandfather seemed to know more about it than he was letting on, but wouldn’t tell me anything else.” Hadrian nodded thoughtfully at that. Both Hadrian and Hermione quickly realized Theo’s family was a taboo topic, and not to be brought up unless absolutely necessary. Even if Theo brought it up himself, you politely nodded and moved on quickly. But that little tidbit of information was more helpful than Theo probably realized. If Theo’s grandfather  _ knew _ the position was cursed, he likely knew just  _ who _ cursed it. And Thaddeus Nott was almost certainly a Death Eater, maybe even one of the first. Could it have been the Dark Lord to curse the position? Why?

It most certainly didn’t help to come across a plaque that was awarded to Tom Marvolo Riddle for “special services to the school”, whatever that meant. Hadrian stumbled a bit when he first saw it, and Theo looked at him strangely for a moment before moving on. Hermione was so enraptured with the castle that she didn’t even notice. Though Hadrian could see her absorbing the conversation, she just didn’t have much to add to it. She had taken the time to quiz Theo on pureblood customs, and why they existed, and what the consequences for not doing them were,  _ and… _

Hermione had a lot of questions. If Theo was bothered by her seemingly endless questions about why wizarding society was the way it was, he didn’t show it. Theo was apparently very interested in history, because he even brought up events from centuries ago to explain certain customs. Stuff like blood adoptions (which were now outlawed, but were used to save children from witch hunts), why the goblins managed the money (apparently it’s a part of the Wizarding and Goblin Treaty after their rebellion in 1304), and The Sacred 28 (which was apparently written by Theo’s great grandfather). Hadrian could tell Theo took pride in their history and customs, even if some of them were outlawed now. Hermione looked thoughtful for the rest of their walk around the castle.

Inevitably, they visited the Owlery, and Hadrian introduced Theo and Hermione to the exasperating menace that was Hedwig. Hermione cooed at how cute she was, and Hedwig puffed up proudly. Hadrian just rolled his eyes and teased her for it, which she pretended to not notice.

Also of interest in their walk was the sheer amount of living portraits that they passed by. Hadrian tried not to think of the potential ramifications of having so many throughout the school, but he couldn’t totally remove it from his mind. This was a spy network waiting to happen, especially if some of these portraits had other frames outside the school. Not to mention Hadrian wasn’t sure if the headmaster could use them too. Merlin, Dumbledore wouldn’t even have to use magic to track people throughout the school, the portraits could do it for him!

By the end of the day, Hadrian’s legs were shaking and he had to stop a few times to catch his breath. Both Hermione and Theo looked concerned, but he waved them off. He would probably have to start exercising to build up his endurance. Yet another thing to thank the Dursleys for, his pitiful physical condition. Hopefully, he could keep this under wraps for as long as possible. It was a weakness to be exploited, and the less people that knew about it the better, especially if it came down to something like a duel.

All three of them returned to the common room to talk more about what they had found, start a preliminary map of the school, and study their first year material in preparation for tomorrow’s classes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jk we're slowing right back down! The slow and ponderous route to story telling it is.
> 
> I probably shouldn't do this, but I'm going to tentatively say I'll upload at least one chapter a month. Y'know unless life decides to fuck it all up.
> 
> Also I promise Hadrian interacts with people next chapter! Since that's actually them going to class. This chapter was originally supposed to be a small part of the day before classes start, and then actual classes, but then it spiraled into this and classes were moved to next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi.  
> Ok so this is my attempt to expand on certain things on Harry Potter/combining fandom theories that I’ve read into one big mess. Be warned that I heavily fuck with canon, specifically character backstories/events, and this story will likely feature many mentions of child abuse (neglect, physical abuse, etc. but NO sexual abuse of a child) I firmly believe that Rowling didn’t include more mentions of it due to publishing concerns, because some things just don’t make sense to me otherwise.  
> You’re telling me the Dursleys dehumanized harry to the point where he thought his name was boy or freak until he went to school, locked him in a confined and dark space as punishment, which, by the way, was his BEDROOM, barely fed him, let their son bully him and run off any potential friends, and they DIDN’T physically abuse him in canon? Not to mention the bars on his window in second year and other similar incidents.  
> Harry (named Hadrian in story), is much more jaded than in canon, and also rather smart, because I’m honestly not sure if I could write a child character convincingly, despite him maturing rather quickly due to his life so far.  
> I cannot promise updates on a schedule, as I have only six chapter written atm, and a general outline for the rest of Hogwarts years. Speaking of which, yes, this fic is planned to go all seven years of Hadrian at Hogwarts.  
> If you have any questions feel free to comment and I'll (eventually) reply if I can!


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